


Dragonfly

by Georgella



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Action & Romance, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Bughead Fanfic Awards, Damaged past event Jughead, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Intrigue, Non AU, Riverdale, Romance, Smut, Tortured Souls, bughead - Freeform, damaged past event Betty, dark themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2019-09-13 13:45:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16893732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Georgella/pseuds/Georgella
Summary: After what was described as the trial of the century, 17 year old Betty Cooper is moving away from NYC to her mother's sleepy town of Riverdale. Next door, a handsome stranger with demons of his own, helps Betty and in turn she helps repair him from a past that isn't quite finished with him yet. Together, they can conquer the ghosts and flames from the past.*warning for future lemons/smut.





	1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

 

Betty looked at her reflection in the foggy mirror. Tired eyes stared back at her, dully illuminated by the soft light of the bathroom lamp. She scanned her appearance, sighing at what she saw. Pale skin, wet blonde hair and dark circles all framed her green eyes. Betty couldn’t remember the last time she had slept through the night or at least more than a few hours. Every time she closed her eyes for more than a moment she saw _him._ The ghostly reminder of the man she knew as her father. His eyes reflected her own, but his were dead and cold. Breaking her gaze, she licked her cracked lips and turned away, towelling her hair and walking out of the bathroom.

The open curtains rustled in the wind allowing the green skyline of forest to glimpse through. Gathering her clothes, jeans and white t-shirt, Betty quickly dressed & slipped her feet into her worn boots. A sharp knock rang out on the door.

“Betty? Are you ready to go?” The voice rang through the wood.  A quick glance at the clock on the bedside table flashed a neon green _9:00am_ back at her. _Right on time,_ she thought.

She opened the door and walked back to quickly pack her things into her suitcase. The sound of footsteps followed her. “Not much longer now. Two more hours’ drive and we’ll be there. Are you nervous?”

Betty turned around and met the warm brown eyes and kind smile of her social worker, Ruth. Ruth had been with Betty every step of the trial. For months she had been the only constant in her life as the state of New York worked to prove her father was the serial killer she knew he was.  She was an older woman with experience in life and laugh lines. Betty liked that about her. Everything about Ruth was warm and familiar.

She shook her head as she placed the few items she had scattered on the bed into the bag. “No, not really. I mean, I’ve been to Riverdale to see my Mom every summer for years. It will be strange being there permanently though.” Betty smiled, she knew her Mom was nervous to see her.

Alice, Betty’s mother had never been around when she was a child. She was constantly working, her journalism taking her to dangerous corners of the globe to investigate and report back. When she was younger, Betty used to get a kick out of seeing her mother on the news. It was like she was talking to her. Her father, Hal, never liked Betty watching her mother’s stories. He would get angry with Betty, telling her that she had abandoned them. But Betty never believed him.  Soon after Betty’s 10th birthday her parents had divorced, and for stability in her schooling, Betty had stayed with her Father. Whilst her mother moved to Riverdale, a small but cosy town a few hours north-west of New York City.

Betty had spent every summer holiday there with her Mom. Alice may have led a hectic life, but somehow, she always made time for Betty in those holidays. She knew her mother loved her very much.

“Well, I’m sure your mother is keen for your arrival. Here, let me take you bag for you. I’ll meet you down in the car. Okay?” She smiled at Betty and took the zipped-up suitcase in her hands and walked towards the door, her shiny black shoes tapping against the worn motel carpet.

There was a soft click as the door closed and Betty was alone again.

She reached into her small bag and grabbed a hair tie, fastening her damp locks into a high ponytail. A quick once over her lips with lip balm and a spritz of her favourite floral perfume on her wrists and she was ready to go.

_I hope I am ready for this_ , she thought to herself.

 

*     *     *

 

Two hours later Betty and Ruth pulled up in front of Alice’s white cottage in Riverdale. Driving through the town had been like Betty was reliving a long-lost dream. Nothing had changed since the last time she had been here – it was like déjà vu. The same cars trundled down Main Street. The same people were milling around Pops Chocklit Shoppe as she remembered. It was like someone had hit a pause button when she had left, and only now everyone was coming back to life.

The last time Betty had been in Riverdale with her mother had been 3 years ago, before her father was convicted and far before the trial. Now she was 17, a teenager on the verge of adulthood, and she was going away from the big city with potential, to the small country town where life moved at a very different pace.

She was most sad about leaving her friends in New York. Her best friends Kevin and Veronica had made Betty promise that once she was settled in they could come and visit. Kevin had already texted Betty that morning to wish her good luck, and Veronica had called the night before she left to give her a pep-talk.

_‘It's not like you’re moving to the other side of the world! It’s just a few hours away. I can have Daddy fly Kevin and I out there in no time. If you need us, we’re only a phone call away.’_ Veronica had stated mid Betty blowing her nose. She had smiled and thanked her through her tears, hoping that should the situation ever arise, this could really be a possibility.

“This is it! You ready?” Said Ruth, she smiled gently at Betty, who was focusing on her breathing to stop herself from having a minor panic attack.

Betty laughed shakily and glanced at Ruth sheepishly. “Look, probably not, but it’s gotta happen so let’s rip off this Band-Aid.”

Ruth patted her on the arm and gave her a light squeeze. “That’s a good outlook, pet. Let’s get you settled into your home.”

They both climbed out of the car, groaning as they did so, their muscles sore and stiff from being stationary for so long. As Betty stretched she looked at the houses neighbouring her own new home. The house on the left was a large brick home, which Betty knew housed a family who were better left to their own devices. On the right stood a small cottage much like Betty’s mothers but was painted in shades of greys. The garden was simple and slightly unkempt and there were two large motorcycles parked in the driveway. Last time Betty had been here the home had been for sale. She didn’t know the new people who lived there but guessed she eventually would.

Grabbing her bags out of the car, she started to walk towards the house, when the front door whipped itself open and a slightly frantic but happy looking Alice Cooper burst through.

“Betty! Oh my, Betty! You’re here!” Alice ran down the small path from the front door and enveloped her daughter into a tight embrace. She had only seen her mother a month ago when it was finalised that she would be moving to Riverdale, but it had obviously been a nervous wait for her.

Betty dropped her bags and hugged her mother back, breathing in her sweet familiar scent she remembered from her childhood. Always the same perfume – the continuity was nice.

“Hi Mom, sorry if we’re late. It was a bit of a drive and the motel we stayed in overnight had a free buffet breakfast, so we took full advantage.” Betty smiled at Ruth who was bringing the last of Betty’s bags out of the car.

Betty’s mother released her and stepped back to grab Betty’s bags. “No! Not at all. I’m just glad you’re finally here, sweetheart. I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted this day to come.” She smiled and started walking towards the house. “Come on in, I’ve got some afternoon tea ready for us. I’m sure Ruth could use a cup or two.”

Ruth smiled and sighed, “That I could do. Who am I to say no to a cup of tea.”

Betty smiled as she watched the two women head into the house, heaving Betty’s bags, her whole life, into the home. She stood on the pavement for a moment, soaking in the sun’s gentle rays. She closed her eyes and breathed in the forest air around her. It felt clean, much unlike the busy smog of the city. After a few moments Betty felt like someone was watching her. She scanned the immediate area but saw no one and headed inside the house, slightly sad to be leaving the warm summer sun behind.

The house was simple and classic in its style, just as it had always been. Lots of creams, whites and woods. The stairs next to the front door led up to the two bedrooms and bathrooms which she would now be sharing with her mother. Lining the stairs were photos of Betty and her mother’s life. All smiling, some gap-toothed, some bright eyed. All from a simpler time.

Walking into the open living room she saw her mother pouring Ruth a cup of tea at the kitchen bench and small plate of chocolate muffins were stacked there, calling her name. Betty grabbed a muffin and flopped down onto the couch. She took a bite and savoured the taste. _Mm. Homemade chocolate chip muffin._ She thought, _My favourite._

As the two women chatted idly behind her, Betty scrolled through her phone admiring the photos on her feed from her friends. She could feel her eyes fighting to close, but she wouldn’t let them.

“Betty?”

The voice broke her trance and her head snapped around and she saw both women looking at her expectantly. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that. What did you say?”

“I was saying,” Said her mother, hand on hip, “that we should probably stop being such chatterboxes here and let poor Ruth start the drive back to the city. Shouldn’t we?”

_Ruth has to leave. Oh._

“Oh right, yes. Probably.” She glanced up at Ruth who was dabbing her eyes with a small handkerchief. “If you leave now, you can get back before the traffic rush starts.” Betty smiled and reached out and squeezed Ruth’s hand. She would truly miss her.

“Don’t you worry about me, pet. I’ll be fine. I’m always weepy when I give you lot back.” She smiled and laughed shakily, pulling herself to her feet.

She pulled Betty into a tight embrace, one which she didn’t want to end. “Don’t worry Pet, you’ll be fine. If you need me, I’m just a phone call away.” She pulled away and started towards the door.

Betty grabbed a muffin and shoved it into Ruth’s hands. “Here!” she smiled, “they’re homemade. Help you keep your energy up for the big drive.” Alice and Betty stood on the garden path waving as they watched the small figure of Ruth climb into the car and drive off, dust twirling behind her.

Betty could feel her mother sigh shakily next to her. “I guess it’s just you and me kiddo. Let’s get you unpacked, yeah?” She smiled warmly at Betty. “I’m so happy you’re here, Betty. And that I can finally be here for you.” She hugged her daughter’s shoulders and started back towards the house.

As Betty followed her mother back inside she noticed one of the motorcycles from next door was missing.

_Maybe I’ll learn to drive one of those someday,_ she mused.

_Ha.Ha. Fat chance._

As she climbed the stairs to her old room she expected to see things where she had left them from her last visit. Same old pink room with Disney bedsheets and old toys scattered around. Bookshelf overflowing and fluffy rug. When she swung the door, open Betty was shocked and relieved to see her mother had updated it for her. The room was now painted a calming white. A large double bed was in the centre of the room in simple white sheets. Above her bed hung a tapestry Betty recognised from her childhood. One her mother had acquired during her travels. It was simple in its light blue and white pattern but complimented the room perfectly. Gone was her haphazard barbie bookshelf and in its place a simple desk, over which sat shelves which ran down the wall to form a built-in bookcase. Betty had more than enough literature to fill these stark white shelves.

Next to the desk was her balcony doors, hidden by flowy gossamer curtains that gently rippled in the wind. She could see her mother standing outside enjoying the rays. Betty cleared her throat and her mother startled.

“Oh Betty! I didn’t hear you come in! So, what do you think? I was going for neutrals, so you can decorate to your own taste. I didn’t think you’d be happy coming home to Barbie.” She smiled and plonked herself down on the bed, fiddling with the light blue knitted comforter.

“I love it Mom, thank you. It’s like a peaceful sanctuary.” She smiled at her mother and looked around the room.

_Yes, this will do nicely, and it might actually encourage me to sleep._ Betty hoped.

“Excellent. Well, I don’t know about you, but all this excitement has worn me down today. I’m going to go downstairs and rustle us up some dinner. I’ll let you get settled in, sweetheart.” Alice got up and placed a kiss on Betty’s forehead before leaving the room and closing the door behind her.

A few hours of unpacking and slices of pizza later, the house was quiet. Betty and her mother had spent the evening chatting and catching up on lost time. Both were cautious to skate around the topic of her father, but Betty was fine with that. _Let sleeping dogs lie,_ she thought. _At least for now._

Now Betty was alone in her bedroom. Her clothes were unpacked and away in the closest, the bookshelf was now heaving with her tomes, fairy lights were hung, and photos were artfully placed. Betty changed into her pyjamas, a simple baby blue t-shirt and shorts combination, wandered out to her balcony. The warm summer air was still blowing gently, and the crickets chirped happily in the garden below her window.

Betty was always amazed how many stars she could see out here. She loved them, loved watching them glow with such promise and purpose. She loved that no matter where she was, or what was happening the stars would always be there to help and guide as they had done for centuries. She found comfort in their stability.

Closing her eyes, Betty breathed in and enjoyed the solace of the moment. When she opened them, she noticed the driveway next door held two bikes again. And staring up at her, dragging on a cigarette was a tall dark figure leaning on the garage door. 

Betty couldn’t help but get an odd feeling in her stomach. As If she was being scrutinised, observed and picked apart. Sighing, she headed back indoors, and climbed into the soft bed. Her paranoia and anxiety were picking her apart.

_I wonder who they are_ , she thought as she rolled over and closed her eyes. She wasn’t expecting to sleep for long but long enough that when it came to it tomorrow, she could find out who the mysterious stranger next door was.

But first she would have to try to get some sleep. 

_Sleep_


	2. Chapter 2

**Betty POV:**

 

Soft morning light filtered in through the open windows and warmed the sheets of Betty’s bed. Her night had gone only slightly better than expected. As usual she had only glimpsed at sleep. Her slumber was shattered with broken images of a ghostly man, cold and unforgiving sucking the very life out of her. No matter where she turned she couldn’t get away from him – her father. His blood ran in her veins, and even as hard as she tried to scrub herself clean of him - he was still there, lurking.

A quiet knock disturbed Betty’s tired thoughts, “Come in!” she yawned.

Alice Cooper opened the door to her daughter’s bedroom and sat down on the edge of her bed. She furrowed her eyes, she didn’t look like she had slept a wink. She had known Betty suffered from night terrors amongst other things, the counsellors had warned her, but what she had heard last night had opened her eyes to how much her daughter had suffered.

It had pained Alice to sign away her rights to see Betty all those years ago. But she knew she was making the right stable choice for her daughter. Had she known just how far her ex-husband would fall…well, she never would have made that mistake in the first place.

So, she could be here for Betty now, Alice had taken on the local paper of the Riverdale Register. It was owned by her bosses and they had been looking for someone to take it over. And who better than their star reporter?

“So, how was your first night as an official Riverdaler?”

Betty shifted and stretched, sitting up so she could see her mother. She was dressed for work and looked to be on her way out. “Not too bad, better than I expected at least.”

Alice frowned and reached out to Betty, cupping her face. “You know you can talk to me about what’s troubling you, don’t you? I mean, I know you’re still going to be seeing that court-appointed therapist and discussing things with him but if you need me – I’m here.”

It was an oddly touching moment from her mother, and Betty smiled. They hadn’t ever really gotten the chance to be close, so she appreciated her mother’s admission.

 “I know, Mom. I know, but it will just take some time for me to adjust I think. Give me some time.” She sighed and looked at her hands, hiding the crescent-shaped indentations from her nails as they pressed into her palms.

 "I realise, but you needed to know.” She stood up and smoothed out her skirt, taking a few steps towards the door. “Now, I’m off to work. It’s only in town so I’m not far away. You have my number if you need me. Relax a little today. Maybe go for a walk?”

 Betty nodded and smiled, “I was thinking of taking it easy today, have no fear in that.”

 “Excellent. Well, I’ll be home around 6 if things go as I want them to, but we both know it’s never that easy. Have a good day sweetheart.” She chuckled and smiled, closing Betty’s door behind her as she left.

 Betty flopped back onto the bed and sighed. The clock on her bedside table flashed that it was 8 o’clock in the morning. She heard the front door close and her mother’s car drive away from the home. She as again surrounded in the sound of the silence and the bird’s morning calls.

 Heaving her tired limbs out of the bed she stumbled her way to the shower and stood in the streams of steaming water for longer than she should have. Once she had pruned & wrinkled herself to satisfaction she got out and dressed in some leggings and a t-shirt. No need to fancy clothes today. She brushed her hair and teeth, avoiding looking at her increasingly haggard appearance in the mirror. She knew how tired she looked – _she could feel it._

 She made her way downstairs and noticed her Mom had left out Betty her favourite cereal on the counter with a glass of juice and a small tray of her medication. A note sitting on top of the bowl of cereal was a list of number to call in case of an emergency.

 

It read: _Just in case._

_Love, Mom._

Betty smiled at her mother’s thoughtfulness and sat at the bench, munching her cereal quietly.

_So, what to do today?_ She pondered. A nice walk to get her reacquainted with her new/old home? That sounded like a good place to start.

Finishing her cereal, she placed her bowl in the sink and went upstairs to grab her shoes and her headphones. A walk was always better with a playlist, or in Betty’s case, a good audiobook. She had been making her way through the Harry Potter audiobooks read by Stephen Fry. She had always found his voice calming, and the familiarity of the subject always seemed to help quell Betty’s rising tensions.

She slipped her feet into her converse and made her way out the front door. As she made her way down the path she noticed a body hunched over one of the motorcycles in the neighbour’s driveway.

_Maybe this is the mysterious stranger?_ She wondered. Betty felt that same odd feeling that she had the night before. The figure over the bike stopped working and stood, looking up at the sound of her footsteps against the pathway.

Betty gasped.

_Oh._

The stranger couldn’t have been much older than she was and was tall and tanned. He was wearing dirty old torn jeans, and a white t-shirt that was smeared with grease from the bikes he was working on. Black converse sneakers on his feet and hanging off the handlebars of the bike was a dark grey beanie that looked slightly like a crown. A leather jacket was flung over the seat, like he had been wearing it, but the morning sun was too warm.

But what stopped her in her tracks were a pair of piercing blue eyes peeking out from underneath messy black hair. The second their eyes met Betty knew this man was her mysterious stranger. Odd, she thought, he looks almost as tired as me.

He grabbed the rag he had tucked into his jean pocket and wiped his hands, walking over to the shared fence that ran between their homes.

“So, you must be Betty Cooper.” His voice was soft and husky. Like a good whisky. Or velvet draped over gravel.

_C’mon. Don’t just stand there like an idiot, Cooper. Talk._

“I... Yes, that’s me. I just got here yesterday.” She smiled cautiously at the handsome stranger who was now leaning over the fence. Betty walked closer, but it felt like her feet were moving on their own.

“I saw. Thought I’d come introduce myself, but you’ve saved me the honour I guess. I’m Jughead. Jughead Jones.” A tanned and slightly dirty hand extended itself for Betty to shake. What kind of name was Jughead? She wondered. It was most likely a nickname for something.

Betty realised she was yet again staring like a stunned fish and Jughead was smirking, clearly aware of the effect he was having on her.

_Shake his hand, moron._

She reached out and took his hand in her own, grasping lightly. The second their skin touched was like a spark had cracked beneath their palms. Both of them sprang apart, looking down at their hands then up at each other with questioning, curious looks on their faces.

_What was that?_

Betty gazed at him and he at her. Betty willed herself to talk about something – anything – to get away from what had just happened. “So, you’re into bikes then?”

 

**Jughead POV:**

Jughead realised he was staring, but he couldn’t seem to make himself break away. Ever since he had seen her standing on the balcony the night before he couldn’t get her out of his mind. She had looked so beautiful. The way the moonlight had looked against her skin hid the dark circles running underneath her large green eyes. Jughead knew that look far too well. Someone who was hiding from sleep. Because they knew when they closed their eyes that they would find anything other than the peace they so desired.

He scanned her face. Though she looked exhausted, she was still beautiful. High cheekbones, soft rounded lips, and smooth pale skin. Her hair was the colour of rich cream. She looked like she belonged in a painting.

_How can something so stunning be so exhausted? What demons was she hiding?..._

When he had seen Betty walk out of the house, squinting in the summer sun he knew this was his chance. Say what you wanted about him, but Jughead Jones was never one to let an opportunity pass by him. Not after all that had happened.

He had never expected such a reaction when he extended his hand to her though. And she had so gently placed her small one in his large, dirty paw that the power of the electricity that rippled and flickered had surprised him.

He was still staring at his hand when he heard her.

“So, you’re into bikes then?” Her voice was soft, but slightly hurried like she wanted to move on from what had happened as fast as she could.

Jughead looked up and met her cautious gaze. “Uh, yeah. Me and my old man fix them up and then sell them. This one is mine though.” He gestured to the black Harley Davidson that he had been working on earlier. “Built it from scratch with my own two hands. Do you ride?”

Betty shook her head and licked her cracked lips, laughing nervously. “No, I think I’ve been in enough dangerous situations recently to not add ‘Death by Motorcycle’ to that list.”

Jughead nodded and smiled. He had read about the trial, and all that had gone with it. It was no secret in a town like Riverdale exactly who Alice Cooper had been married to, or that her daughter was coming to live with her after all these years. He wouldn’t tell Betty he knew, not yet.

“Bit of a klutz, are you? I’m sure with the right teacher you’d be ready in no time.” He smirked.

Betty smiled up at him. It was warm and genuine. “I’m afraid falling over my own feet is something of my specialty. I think I am much safer to the whole community if I just stay away from high powered vehicles – no matter how good the teachers think they are.”

Was that a bit of sass Jughead detected? He was enjoying himself far too much. He laughed at her and he was relieved when she chuckled as well. “Well, if you’re sure then.”

“I am – most definitely.”

“Are you starting at Riverdale High when the summer is over, Betty?” Jughead was acutely away of the hum between them. He had noticed that Betty had wandered closer to the fence and they were close enough he could count the freckles that dotted her nose.

She nodded not breaking eye contact. “Uh yeah, senior year. And you?” Jughead gripped the fence. She looked hopeful.

_Pull yourself together, Jones. Fuck._

He smirked. “Nope. I finished end of last year. I’m a free agent at the moment. I just write freelance for a few papers and websites here and there. Whatever takes my fancy really.”

Betty looked slightly disappointed. Jughead smirked “I’m afraid you won’t get to see me roaming the halls but I’m sure you’ll still see me around. Don’t worry.”

He was teasing her, testing the waters and it worked. Betty blushed and Jughead held his breath.

She was going to be the death of him.

 

  **Betty POV:**

_Did he really just say that? Oh my god. Now he thinks I’m flirting…Oh god._

“Oh, that’s not what I was…I was just making conversation…” Betty rambled off, looking down at her shoes as they kicked the grass.

S _mooth. Real smooth._

Betty could feel Jugheads eyes on her, she knew he was grinning. He had gotten the reaction he had hoped for. “Relax Betts, I’m not going to bite.”

_Betts…He called me Betts._ She was internally dancing.

Betty hadn’t realised how close they were until she looked up to him and as their eyes met, it was like everything else melted away. She had never met someone who could have this effect on her before. It made it hard to string together a sentence, let alone a full conversation.

“I…uh… should probably be going. I’ll let you get back to your bike.”

She saw something flash across his bright inky blue eyes. Disappointment, maybe? Betty wanted to stare into them forever. They were the sort of blue that were endless pools. And like all water, could be icy if needed. She could tell that he was guarded and was much more comfortable asking the questions rather than answering them himself.

“Uh yeah, fuck, I probably have held you up for long enough anyway answering my stupid questions” Jughead ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at the ends and looking at his feet.

Betty had never seen a man look as sexy as Jughead looked right now, but she managed to maintain herself control to say goodbye.

“I guess I’ll see you round then.” Betty smiled and moved away from the fence, the gentle hum that had been running between them started to lessen.

“Yeah, see you round then.” He nodded and turned on his heel walking back towards his bike.

As Betty walked across the road and into the forest walking path opposite their houses she could feel the watchful eyes of Jughead Jones on her back.

She couldn’t wait to see him again.


	3. Chapter 3

**BETTY POV:**

A few hours had passed when Betty walked back down the wooded path towards her house. She had found a lovely opening in the forest that had a small pond and had fallen asleep (even if momentarily) against a tree in the shade as she listened to her audiobook.  It looked as if no one else knew where this pond was as it looked undisturbed. There were wildflowers humming with bee’s going about their daily business, and cool green grass that made a perfect sitting spot. A large oak tree ran against the water’s edge, dangling its heavy branches over the water, offering shade to the small frogs and fish which most likely lived within.

It was an oasis.

She knew she would return sooner rather than later, but as the sun reached its peak she could feel her skin burning and she knew It was time to head home. Betty couldn’t hide her disappointment when she saw Jughead wasn’t still in the driveway. Even if, logically, she knew it was too hot for him to be out there working anyway.

_Better luck next time_ , she sighed.

The inside of her home was cool and inviting. Betty still wasn’t 100 percent used to her new surroundings yet. It was so unlike her home back in New York. Her mother had really worked to make sure Betty was comfortable, and she appreciated it.

Betty walked to the fridge and grabbed out a can of Coca Cola and snapped it open listening to it fizz and bubble as she took a sip. You could take many things away from Betty Cooper, but you could pry her Coca Cola out of her cold dead hands. It was the one vice she wasn’t quite ready to let go of just yet.

She was sitting on the couch flicking through the television channels when her phone vibrated next to her. It was her mother.

 

_‘Hi Sweetie,_

_Hope everything’s okay at home._

_Sorry but I’m going to be a little late tonight._

_Dinners in the fridge. X’_

Betty sighed. It wasn’t that she really minded her mother was working late, but the more she was alone, the more she thought of him. The more her mind played tricks on her.

It was 5 o’clock and Betty was starting to get peckish. She got up and opened the fridge to find whatever her mother had left for dinner. To her disgust she found a bowl of Pea and Ham soup. Alice had always been a fan of the stuff, trying to feed it to Betty over the years, but it had never been a favourite of hers.

She groaned, _I would kill for some fries._

As she internally debated the logistics of getting McDonalds fries delivered via Veronica’s Dad’s helicopter, a knock rang out at the front door.

Betty shuffled towards the door, her feet sore from her hiking adventure earlier. After looking through the peephole and seeing nothing but someone’s back, she opened the door, expecting a salesman or a Jehovah’s Witness.

The back turned around and Betty was faced with a smiling Jughead. He had changed out of his dirty jeans combo from earlier and was wearing his leather jacket and beanie she had noticed beforehand. A flannel shirt was tied around his waist and he had changed into black boots and a crisp white tee. Sexy was an understatement

“Hi” He grinned at her, the hum of electricity between them noticeable. His eyes darkened slightly as Betty licked her chapped lips. A bad nervous habit.

Betty swallowed timidly. _Just who I wanted to see._

“Uh hi, can I help you?” She played it down - like it was no big deal this tall sexy person was at her door. It happens all the time, right? Right.

Smirking, Jughead took a step closer to Betty and leant against the door frame.  “Yes, actually. I was wondering if you were free this evening. Figured I might show the new girl in town where all the cool kids hang out.”

She laughed. Did he just call himself cool? “And I take it you’re one of those people?”

“Of course!” he laughed. “I have a leather jacket. You know that means I’m cool.”

“Well, luckily for you, my Mom has to work late tonight so I’m free.” Jughead's eyes lit up at her words.

Betty grabbed her shoes and keys next to the door and pulled it shut behind her. Betty bent down to slip on her shoes. “So, where are we going Mr. Jones?” she said as she fastened her shoe laces.

Jughead sucked in a breath as Betty bent down and chuckled nervously. “We are going to go to Pop’s.” he spluttered. He seemed to be having a hard time getting the words out.

Betty stood up and chuckled. Her mother had never taken her to Pop’s much when she was younger. She had only been allowed to have a milkshake – Vanilla, of course. She knew it was the place many of Riverdale’s teens had hung out in. It still clung to the nostalgia of the old American diner. Betty liked that.

“Okay. How are we getting there?” Betty looked nervously behind Jughead. They wouldn’t be taking the bike there, would they?

As if he seemed to sense Betty’s apprehension, Jughead reached out and patted Betty on the arm, his hand lingering for a moment. The tension between them swelled. Betty could have sworn Jughead was blushing.

“By motorbike of course! I promise I won’t let you fall off. Scouts honour.” He held his hand up in front of his head and laughed. Betty grimaced – her anxiety reared. She knew she needed friends here. And this could be a great shot at having one…or something more. Would she really let that go because she was afraid she’d fall off?

“Okay...” She couldn’t believe the words were coming out of her mouth.

Jughead was already seated on the motorbike, holding out a white helmet for her to take. “C’mon Betts.” He patted the seat with his free hand.

Betty quickly fished her phone out of her pocket and sent her Mom a text informing her that she was going to Pop’s to grab a burger for dinner and she would be back later. Her phone buzzed a moment later with a reply.

 

‘ _Okay._

_Still stuck here_

_Have fun and be safe. Xx’_

 

She didn’t dare tell Alice Cooper that she was getting there on the back of a motor bike owned by a handsome man she had known less than 24-hours. She knew she would have worried too much, even if that man was Alice’s own neighbour.

Grabbing the helmet, Betty climbed onto the bike behind Jughead. She was acutely aware of how close they were, and she knew he was too – he had stiffened slightly as she had sat down.

_Am I ready for this?..._ Betty was never one for rash judgements but even she recognised when things were moving fast. Whatever this feeling, this tension was between her and Jughead she knew it wouldn’t lay undiscovered for long.

 

**Jughead POV:**

“Okay! You ready?” He revved the bike, kicking back the stand. Betty was closer to him than she had ever been before, and her warmth was tantalising.

“Nope, but let’s go before I change my mind!” She yelled over the roar of the engine.

“Hold tight!”

Jughead felt two small arms wrap themselves around his waist, holding tight. He had to do everything in his power to not think of situations that involved Betty and him in various stages of undress. He could hear Homer Simpson telling him to think unsexy thoughts.

_Dead grandmas. Donald Trump. Tofu. Spiders. Fuck._

Anything to keep his mind (and his pants) clear. From the moment he had laid eyes on Betty he had wanted to protect her from the world and to make her his. He was immediately attracted in a way he had never been with any woman before.

T _hat’s because she isn’t like any woman…_

Don’t get him wrong. There was nothing Jughead wanted to do more than to kiss Betty Cooper (among other things) but he wanted to do it the proper way and actually get to know her first. And if she was anything like he thought she was, guarded just like him, he knew it wasn’t going to be an easy task.

A few minutes later they were on the other side of town, which they could easily have walked but was decidedly less fun, and in the parking lot of the diner.

This was Jugheads happy place.

When he and his Dad had moved to Riverdale Jughead had found refuge here. An escape for him from his father’s drinking and a space that allowed him to write and get his work done.

Pop Tate smiled and waved at Jughead as he opened the door. “The usual, son?”

“Probably Pop, but I should probably let Betty see the menu first.” He chuckled and watched Betty seat herself in an empty booth towards the emptier end of the diner. She was already reading the menu when he sat down opposite her, studying her features as she read.

She was chewing on her bottom lip as she read, an unconscious move he guessed. Her brows furrowed gently as she read, her eyes flicking around the page. Her thick lashes blinked softly.

Jughead was falling. Hard and fast.

_Woah._ He thought, _what an enigma. And she doesn’t even know it._

 

**Betty POV:**

Betty looked up at Jughead through her lashes, satisfied with her choice from the menu. “You ready to order?” she cocked an eyebrow in question.

Jughead smirked, “Thought you’d never ask. Hey Pop! We’re ready!” Betty watched as Jughead waved down the elderly gentleman who owned the Diner. He smiled at Jughead as he approached.

“What shall it be, kids?” He had his pen and paper ready.

“I’ll have my usual, Pop. And Betty will have…” He trailed off, looking at her expectantly. The man was clearly prepared and ready for a burger.

“I’ll have a cheeseburger and fries, please. Oh! And a vanilla shake as well.” She nodded, satisfied with her order, and handed both menus back to the older gentleman who smiled kindly at her.

“Of course, right away.” He nodded at the both of them and walked back to get their food ready.

Betty watched as some men wearing similar jackets to Jughead pulled into the parking lot outside. They parked their bikes and started to smoke. They seemed to be waiting for something…or someone. Betty felt Jughead stiffen across from her.

She narrowed her eyes as he looked outside, his face a blank slate. A million miles away from the confident, carefree character he had been a moment earlier.

“So…” Betty fiddled with the end of her ponytail. “You like the burgers here?”

Jugheads attention snapped back to Betty and she could have sworn she could the see the ice wall he had up melt just a little. His eyes lit up as they met hers and he leaned closer, so they were almost nose to nose. “I don’t just like the burgers here, Betty. I _love_ them.”

A smug grin swept across his face as Betty struggled to remember what day it was.

_Breathe, Betty. He’s just a good-looking guy…no need to forget how to breathe. He probably does this to all the women he meets._

She giggled, “Well, I’ll have to be the judge on how good they are. Clearly you’re biased and you’re in some sort of weird burger relationship.”

He raised an eyebrow at her and leaned back as she joked. “It’s not laughing matter, Betts. These burgers are the closest thing to a relationship I’ve had in a long time.”

“Is that because no one has been able to stand up to your _cheesy_ standards?”

Jughead choked out a laugh at the terrible joke, “Perhaps. Or maybe I just haven’t found the right person.”

Betty smiled as Pop laid their food out in front of them. She couldn’t deny that the burger looked amazing. And the vanilla shake was just as good as she had remembered it – but what she really wanted, was those salty fries.

As soon as the crispy potato hit her tongue she knew she was done for. “What does he put on these? Crack?!” She exclaimed as she shoved more into her mouth.

Jughead who was mid burger bite almost spat out his burger as he bit back a laugh.

“It’s entirely possible.” He said as he took another bite of his bacon cheeseburger supreme.

Bettys eyes rolled back into her head in enjoyment as she worked her way through her meal, which was mostly in silence. They were both enjoying the food too much to bother talking. She had noticed that Jughead kept casting glances to the men outside, as if to check if he was needed.

“So Jughead,” She wiped her mouth with her napkin and sat back in her booth. Jughead had finished his meal a while ago and had sat waiting for her to finish. “Are you going to tell me who your friends are outside?”

Jughead swallowed and Betty saw those pools of blue ice over again. Cold and emotionless. “They’re not my friends – you’d do well if you don’t mention them again.” He looked away from her and back out the window, where the men were climbing back onto their bikes readying themselves to leave.

“You just look like you’re ready to attack…that’s all. I can feel the anxious energy coming off you in waves.” Betty spoked to her hands, only now noticing that she had been pressing her nails into her palms again. _Shit._

As she looked up she saw Jughead was watching her, his expression softer but still guarded.

Jughead sighed, “Look – we’ve just met, and I don’t want to bring you down with all the boring and possibly scary details yet…but they’re here to check on me. My father would have sent them. He’s…controlling like that.” He leaned closer to her again. “Now, can we talk about something else?”

Betty nodded and wondered idly what sort of person his father was to have him so on edge. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry, or upset you. What did you want to talk about?”

Jughead placed his arms on the table, clasping his hands in front of him. Betty could see he was back to being his charming self.

“I want to know about you, Betty. What do you do for fun? What do you want to be when you grow up?” He smiled at her and took a sip of his double chocolate shake.

Betty fiddled with her straw as she thought for a moment. “Well, I like to read, and write. I guess I really am my Mothers daughter in that aspect. I enjoy going for walks, and baking. I think when I’m older, after college I’d like to try and do Journalism. But who knows, y’know?”

She smiled and sipped her shake. Betty could feel the tension between them ripple as Jughead and her met eyes. She could stare into his eyes forever, get lost in them. She wouldn’t mind.

 

**Jughead POV:**

Jughead knew he was slowly inching his way across the table. It was like she was a magnet and he was slowly being drawn in. He couldn’t help himself. Anytime they locked eyes it was like seeing her for the first time. She took his breathe away, even if she was just in jeans and a t-shirt. He wondered idly what reaction he would have if he ever got to see her out of her clothes.

_You’d probably have a boner-induced heart attack. There’d be no blood left for your brain._

Jughead shook his head and took another sip of his shake, sad that it was almost gone.

“A Journalist, wow. Sounds like you’ve got your life sorted then. Don’t have time to worry about little old me then.” Jughead teased Betty and she slapped his hand slightly as she giggled. The electricity sparked, and they looked up, eager apprehension mirrored in their eyes.

“Oh, ha ha. I used to think I did, but after…everything that happened, I’m not so sure anymore.” Sadness rimmed her voice. Betty looked down as she felt tears rimming in her eyes. She blinked them back and was instantly aware of how open she was being with someone she knew not much about. But something about him just made her relax.

He reached over the table and ran the back his fingers over her tightly clasped fist. Betty looked up at him, and for a moment he saw the guard fall and glimpsed the broken person he knew she was hiding. She really was the most stunning creature he’d ever seen. Jughead knew in that moment that he would do anything to help her close her wounds, and who knows, maybe she’d help pull him back from the edge as well.

Jughead felt Betty’s small hand slide into his own. It was warm and scarred.

They were both close now, close enough to hear her short breaths as she worked to control what he assumed was a panic attack. Jughead ran his thumb back and forth over Bettys hand and waited until she had quietened.

“Do you want to go home?” He murmured, concern clear in his voice.

Betty, still not meeting his gaze, nodded and pulled her hand out of his. Jughead was immediately sad of the loss. Betty’s touch made him weak at the knees, so he wondered if his made hers weak too.

Jughead left Betty in the booth for a moment to collect herself and went to pay for their meal. When he turned around Betty was already outside standing next to the motor bike looking up at the stars.


	4. Chapter 4

**Betty POV:**

“You ready to go or would you like to stargaze a moment longer?” A soft voice rumbled behind her.

Betty hadn’t heard Jughead arrive behind her, but she could feel his radiating warmth and that strange tingly feeling that seemed to arise whenever he was near her.

Turning around she realised how close he was. His torso merely inches away from her face. He was so much taller than her petite 5’3 frame. He towered over her, but in a strange way it comforted her.

She looked up at saw his blue eyes full of concern. It was amazing that they had only met that morning. She felt like she had known him for a lifetime. Nonetheless, no matter how strong her desires might be, even she realised when she needed to slow down. But she was struggling to care. Betty hadn’t had this sort of love or attention in a very long time. Her ex-boyfriend back in New York, Reggie hadn’t been the least bit interested when he learned of what Betty was going through with her father. They had been together all through middle school but as they had gotten into High School Betty knew this wasn’t supposed to last. So, she ended it and relied on talking to a counsellor for comfort.

She missed having someone who genuinely cared for her. It scared her that this mysterious Jughead might be that person.

“I’m ready. I should really be heading home anyway. My Mom will be wondering where I’ve run away to.” She smiled through tight lips and strapped the helmet on her head before climbing onto the bike.

Jughead nodded and climbed on after her trying not to let his disappointment that the evening was ending now.

Minutes later they pulled into Jugheads driveway. His house was dark, no signs of life. As was Betty’s. Perhaps her Mother had already gone to bed. Betty climbed off the bike and handed the helmet back to a waiting Jughead. She was walking back to her house when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Betts! Wait.”

Spinning around Betty met Jugheads eyes. They gazed at each other for a moment as if a silent conversation could be conducted purely through their eyes. Betty could see concern and care peeking through his guard. She knew he could see her apprehension, her sadness. She simply didn’t have enough energy to hide it anymore.

She was exhausted, and so was he.

When Jughead spoke, she didn’t know how long they had been standing there for. “Will I see you again sometime soon?” His eyes were wary, and his voice unsure.

She nodded, struggling to keep herself upright let alone speak. Her vision was starting the blur. She knew she had reached her breaking point. Betty was always cautious to not let her lack of sleep really push her over the edge. Usually she snuck in naps, but she had had such a full-on day that it had simply passed by. She wasn’t sure she was going to make it up the stairs.

As she went to step away from Jughead, Betty tripped over her own exhausted feet. Her fragile frame hit the pavement, like lead and iron. She simply didn’t have the energy to push herself up.

Moments later she was surrounded by warm, strong leather-clad arms, and her eyes fluttered closed.

 

**Jughead POV:**

“Betty!” Jughead cried as she hit the floor. He had seen that glazed look before. She had pushed the no-sleep thing too far. Understandably the past few days would have taken a lot out of her, and the previous night didn’t seem to have been all that restful. Jughead scooped her tiny frame off the sidewalk and held her against his chest, holding her close.

Jughead took a deep breath. She smelt like warm vanilla and honey. Having her this close to him almost made the electricity too much to bare, but he pushed though. His own body thrust to the limits. He couldn’t remember the last time he had slept through the night. Nightmares of his own making keeping him awake at night. Cigarettes and booze helped but eventually even he had to admit defeat and sleep. What he saw haunted him, like dark demons dancing through his mind. He was never quick enough, or strong enough to stop them from replaying endlessly on a torturous loop.

Faces, screams, flames.

Blood… so much blood.

But that didn’t matter now. What mattered was getting Betty inside and into her bed. Jughead made the short walk down the path and up to Betty’s front door. He knocked gently but when he didn’t hear anything he tried the handle.

_Fuck. Locked. Find her keys dumbass._

Jughead gently lay Betty down on the porch bench and pulled her keys out of her pocket. Unlocking the door in one swift motion, he picked Betty up and closed the door behind them. Her soft breathing told Jughead she was asleep in his arms.

Frowning in concern, Jughead made his way up the stairs and peered into the rooms at the top of the landing, looking for Betty’s bed. The first room he saw was decorated in deep blue and whites and was distinctly not Betty’s room.

Jughead turned on his heel, careful to not jostle Betty and walked into her room. It was simple, white and clean. Spotting the large bed, Jughead gently lay Betty down. After he had pulled off her shoes, and the many unnecessary pillows girls seemed to insist on having off the bed, he debated with himself if he should take off her pants as well.

_Just decide and get out of here before Alice gets home, Jones._

Reasoning with himself that he was only doing it to help her be comfortable he undid the button of her blue jeans and slid them down her legs. Jughead marvelled at the long lean flesh of her bare legs and it took all his willpower to stop himself from doing something more.

Now free of her pants, Jughead pulled the covers over Betty and stood back, satisfied with his work.

She looked peaceful for now. But if it was anything like he suspected it was, he knew it wouldn’t last long. Hopefully she was sleeping deeply enough that the demons would stay away just a little while longer.

Jughead, now fighting his own eyelids, pulled a cigarette out of the pack in his pocket and fiddled with it nervously.

_Time to go, Jones._

Jughead slipped the cigarette underneath the rim of his beanie and knelt down next to the sleeping Betty. Her hair was fanned over her cheek, hiding her face. Gently, he tucked it behind her ear and stood up, watching her shoulders rise and fall with her sleeping breaths.

“Sleep well, Betty Cooper.”

Walking out of the room he stole one more glance at the sleeping girl, knowing that he was in it for the long haul now.  Whatever that meant.

Minutes later Jughead found himself sitting in his garage, lazily smoking his cigarette and looking up at the balcony which connected Betty’s room to the outside world. The open door let the white gossamer curtains dance in the wind, graceful and violent at the same time.

He willed himself not to go back up there and watch her while she slept. He could keep telling himself that it was just to make sure that she was okay, after she fell. But he knew deep down, that it was to see if being near her would allow him a peaceful night’s sleep again. It was a long shot, and he knew it. But Jughead was growing desperate. It had been…countless months since he had slept a full night and he could feel himself starting to fall back into his old vices.

Jughead had been sober for a year, because after one bad Serpent after-party he had almost killed someone in a coke-induced haze and fury. One of the newcomers had thought they could talk shit about the burns which covered his back. They had known the subject was off limits, and Jughead had been in no mood to debate – he just took action.

It had taken 5 men to drag him off the guy, blood and sweat dripping off him as they hauled him back and chained him in one of the holding cells his father usually reserved for infiltrators from opposing gangs.

As Jughead had washed his hands and face clean in the tiny dirty mirror of the cell, he saw what he was becoming. A shell of himself. Someone who reminded him far too much of the venomous Serpent leader – his father.

So, he booked himself into a drug rehab clinic, left his school and the gang and thought it would be the last he would see of his father.

He couldn’t have known how wrong he was.

A few months after he got out of the clinic, he had received word that his father was in dire straits and needed his son, and heir, to return and hold the helm while he went and dutifully fought the battles against waging enemies.

Being the dutiful son, as much as it pained him, Jughead had turned heel and found his father in Riverdale, and here they had been ever since. It was almost two and a half years ago now and showed no sign of improving. His father was still away, as he often had been since Jughead had returned, leaving him in charge of the gang’s faction here in Riverdale.

No matter how much Jughead proved himself, it seemed that his father was still dubious about his son’s ability to lead the men he had ruled over for so many years. And unfortunately for Jughead, most of the men preferred his father over his 20-year-old, uncontrollable son.

But that wouldn’t stop Jughead from trying. Trying to prove to his father that even after everything that had happened, even after his…mother – he could still be the leader his father needed him to be.

Dragging the last of his Marlboro, he stomped it into the ground and headed inside his house. It was nowhere near as nice as Betty’s house next door. Things were a little grimier - darker. The home lacked the feminine touch, a warmth. When his father had bought the house, he had furnished it with what had come from their previous home in Toledo. It had taken a while for the smell of smoke and cinder to work its way out of the furniture.

After a while, Jughead had decided to re-furnish his room and had donated his old bedroom furniture. He didn’t have to think twice about taking them to the dump and watching as smoky memories were discarded behind him.

Later he had a new bed, he had found he was able to sleep a little better. But not much. He still struggled. Every time he closed his eyes, the flames licked his vision, his room grew hot and he struggled to breathe.

The memory of her screams haunted his most. Not being able to get to her and having to listen to his father laugh as Jugheads world burnt down around him.

He had been lucky to escape with his life, but the skin on his back told another story, just how close he had been to losing it.

Jughead walked over to the liquor cabinet and grabbed a bottle of whisky and a glass and headed upstairs to his room. His room wasn’t anything special. A double bed with a dark grey cover on it, unmade as it always was. A black leather couch against one wall and a desk with a laptop and stereo on the other. The bookshelves surrounding his desk were filled with novels and music he’d collected over the years. He placed the whisky and glass on the desk and stretched himself out.

Discarding his jacket, shoes and beanie on the couch in the corner of his room, he tugged off his t-shirt and jeans, dumping them in his dirty clothes hamper. He pulled on a pair of dark grey tracksuit bottoms and poured himself a glass of whisky, downing it quickly before pouring himself another.

Jughead grabbed his sketch pad and charcoal case and flopped down onto his couch, flipping on the stereo as he did so. A quiet piano filtered through the speakers and he sighed, taking another sip of his whisky. The burn as it slid down his throat felt good. Reminded him he was alive. That he could feel  _something._

To try and distract his failing mind from falling asleep, Jughead had taking up sketching. He found it enormously relaxing and calming and had found he had a natural talent for it. When he was in the rehab clinic his therapist had suggested it as a way of helping ‘draw out his demons’, whatever that meant. But Jughead never found himself drawing his demons. Only his angels. Which was how he found himself absent-mindedly drawing the sad but beautiful eyes of his new neighbour.

With every stroke of the charcoal and sip of his whisky Jughead found Betty’s likeness coming to life on the page in front of him. Her soft pouty lips, high cheekbones and silken waves falling down her shoulders. He even included the small scar she had running through her left eyebrow, and the light freckles which ran across the bridge of her nose.

Gradually as he drew, and as the bottle of whisky grew emptier, he felt the familiar pull of sleep tugging at his drooping eyelids.

He had fought sleep for too long, but the adrenaline of putting Betty to bed, and the large amount of whisky he had drunk were threatening to pull him under. Sleep called to him, like a siren song of old.

Setting down the sketchpad and glass, he slipped off the couch and shuffled the two feet over to his bed and switched off the light. It was still and dark in Riverdale that night. No insects chirped. No cars ran down their wooded street and no sounds of summer fun.

Jughead idly hoped that the silence was what waited for him as he closed his eyes, and felt the darkness enveloped him.

As he drifted off into no-man’s land, he saw the beautiful face of the stranger next door. Like a light in the darkness, he hoped she would lead him to a peaceful night’s rest. God knows he needed it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're enjoying Dragonfly, let me know with a comment. I love hearing what you think! Now - onto the chapter!

Betty Cooper woke early the next morning to her mother sitting on the end of her bed, holding a tray of what looked like pancakes and a glass of orange juice. It took her a moment to realise she didn’t remember getting into bed last night or taking her shoes and pants off and folding them so neatly next to the bed.

 _Jughead_.

She was going to have to apologise and make up for her lack of consciousness last night. She could smell him on her clothes, cigarettes mixed with citrus and sandalwood.

“Mom, how long have you been sitting there for?” Betty pushed herself up the pillows and took the tray out of her mother’s hands and set it beside her.

Alice smiled, “Oh not long, sweetheart. I just wanted to make it up to you for last night. I didn’t want to leave you on your own, but I just couldn’t pull myself away from work. You were already in bed when I got home at 11.”

11 o’clock? Betty quickly glanced at the clock on the bedside table and saw it was 7:30 in the morning. Had she slept all night? Not wanting to alert her mother to her surprise she grabbed the pancakes and started to cut one. Choc Chip – her favourite.

“Oh really, it’s fine Mom. I’m a big girl, I understand you are under a lot of pressure.” She smiled at her mother reassuringly, taking a bit of pancake.

“I know Betty, but I don’t want you to feel like I’m abandoning you. I just want to make sure of that, okay?” Her mother looked concerned and tucked one of Betty's stray blonde locks behind her ear.

The action caused Betty to have a moment of déjà vu. It was like she could still feel the movement of his fingers even though she must have been semi-unconscious when he did so.

She nodded and smiled at her mother. “Seriously Mom, It’s fine.” Her mother seemed placated by the answer and started towards the door.

When she got to the door Betty noticed a small rollaway suitcase waiting out in the hallway. “Going somewhere?”

“Yes, just a couple of nights in New York. I need to meet with my lawyers about this whole case just to finalise a few things. You’ll be okay, though won’t you? I’ll be back Sunday night. So, it’s only the weekend.” She smiled gently at Betty who was nodding through mouthful of pancake. “I’ve left you some money on the bench for pizza or whatever you want to eat. You have my number and know that I’ll come home if you even feel for a second you need me, okay?”

Betty smiled. Her mother was clearly apprehensive and worried about leaving her alone all weekend, but she knew she’d be fine.

“I’ll be fine, Mom. Don’t worry. It’ll give me time to explore Riverdale a little better. Maybe even make a friend or two.”

Alice smiled and nodded. “Okay, sweetheart. Enjoy your weekend and be safe. I love you.”

“Love you too, Mom.” Betty smiled as her mother closed the door. She noticed that she had unknowingly eaten all her pancakes.

Betty laid back on the pillows as she listened to her mother’s car pull out of the driveway and run over the gravel road.

For the first time in months Betty’s thoughts weren’t tinged by the creeping thought of sleep. She felt fully awake and rested. Something she found it hard to remember feeling like this ever before. She could hear every sound, see every clear, crisp detail. Her mind had allowed her one night of peace and for that she was grateful.

She wondered idly if Jughead had anything to do with it when there was a banging on her balcony. Moments later her balcony doors opened and in strode Jughead Jones wearing his customary jeans, t-shirt, flannel and beanie combo, looking like he too had slept more than he usually did.

“Uh…good morning. How did you get up here?” She stuttered, in disbelief at what she was seeing.

Jughead smirked at her and flopped down next to her on the bed. “Morning, Betts. A ladder. Sleep well?” His gaze flicked to hers and she bit her lip.

Betty was taken aback. “Actually…yes. For the first time in a long time.”

She rolled over on her side to face him and he moved to face her. They were now _very_ close. Jughead propped himself up on his elbow, he looked at her quizzically.

“Y’know what? I did as well. I feel better than I have in months, actually.” Betty was acutely aware of how close his free hand was to hers, lying in the no man’s land between them.

He sounded slightly relieved but caught off guard. Betty nodded. She knew they were both wondering the same thing but were too chicken to say it out loud.

She looked down at their hands, lying next to one another.

“Now, Miss Cooper. Did I spy a suitcase that your mother took with her when she left this morning?” She smirked at her and she could feel herself blush. She could smell his morning cigarette on his clothes mixed with the sweet scent of his cologne.

“Yes, she’s gone to see the lawyers to finalise things about my Dad. She’ll be back on Sunday night. So, I have two free evenings to do whatever I like. Probably Netflix and a whole bowl of buttery popcorn.”

Jughead laughed. “Sounds like you’ve got it sorted then.”

“Perhaps. What do you have planned this pretty summer weekend then, Jug?” Betty sighed softly as he started to gently run his fingers over the back of her hand.

She had only moved here a few days ago and already she had a man in her bedroom. But Betty was far from uncomfortable. In a strange way, being around Jughead made Betty feel more like herself than she had in years…since before the trial.

Betty chewed on her lip as she wondered what he had planned, and she heard Jughead suck in a breath.

“Uh well,” he started shakily, “I was actually going to ask if you wanted to go for a walk. The woods around here are lovely for hikes in summer. And I know a place I think you’d like. It the perfect picnic location.”

Their eyes met, and Betty could feel her breathing go off kilter. Jughead was close enough that if he had kissed her she wouldn’t have been able to refuse.

_Not that you would refuse anyway. You’d jump his bones if he’d let you._

“That sounds lovely. I’d like that. But first I’d like to say something…” Betty pulled herself up a little, so she wasn’t so close to Jughead. She needed to be further from him, so she could think straight.

Jughead looked at her, guarded. “What?…”

“I just wanted to say thank you, for what you did for me. I’m sorry you had to see me like that. You barely know me, and you had to put me to bed. I pushed myself too far over my limit and you, very kindly, had to fix my problems. I don’t know how to thank you enough.” Bettys gaze met Jugheads and saw something she couldn’t quite decipher.

He cleared his throat before he spoke and grabbed her small hand in his. Betty melted slightly.

“Betty, you don’t have to apologise. Really, you don’t. I did it because I wanted to. That and I’m sure Alice Cooper would have wanted to know why you were unconscious in my driveway if I hadn’t.” He was teasing her, smirking as she blushed.

“Anyway, let me make it up to you, Jug. Ill pack the picnic?” She smiled at him, and he back at her.

He squeezed her hand gently and laughed. “I thought you’d never ask. And if you’re wondering; No, I am not allergic to anything. I eat _everything._ ” Jughead waggled his eyebrows at a blushing Betty and she knew immediately he wasn’t talking about food. She wasn’t even going to think about that because if she did, she knew she wouldn’t get it out of her mind.

Sensing that she had picked up on his double entendre, Jughead brought their hands up to his lips and gently kissed her hand.

As their eyes met, they both leant forward, breathes coming out slightly faster and hotter. Jugheads warmth was inches from Betty. She noticed he was looking at her lips, slightly parting his own. He wanted to kiss her.

_I want to kiss him._

**Jughead POV:**

_Fuck, I want to kiss her._

Jughead watched as Betty’s eyes fluttered closed as she moved slightly forward. Their foreheads were now resting on each other’s, their lips open and ready.  He could feel his heart hammering in his chest at a million miles a second. He had never wanted someone so badly before - ever.

“Betty,” Jughead whispered.

He brought his hand up to cradle her face and stroked his thumb up and down her cheek, leaving fire in its wake. They stayed close for a few moments longer, before he groaned and pulled himself back. Jughead shuffled back across the bed and re-established a distance between them again.

_Too soon, Jones. Don’t fuck this up yet._

“As much as I would like to do what I think we were about to do, we shouldn’t. Not yet.” Jughead spoke downwards at the bed, a strained edge to his voice. His jeans were now feeling very uncomfortable.

He could feel Betty nodding beside him, before her hand found its way to rest on his knee.

“I understand, Jug.” When he looked up, Betty was staring ahead at the wall, an unreadable look on her face.

A sudden feeling of terror rushed through Jughead. What if she thought that he didn’t want to? Or that she thought I felt she was unworthy of something like that?

_Oh no. Don’t fuck this up, Jones._

“Betts – look at me,” She slowly turned her head, eyes still unreadable “It’s not because I don’t want to. Trust me, I want to. I want you. I want to get to know everything about you. But I think we should get to know each other more first. Let’s not rush, okay?” Jughead grabbed her hand and held it firmly in-between his as he spoke.

As he murmured those last words, he looked over at Betty who was gazing at him with a sort of awe-struck look on her face. “Really? But you hardly know me.”

He moved back closer to her again. “Really. The second I saw you, Betts. I was gone. You’re an enigma”

Betty blushed but shook her head. “But I’m broken, Jug. And I don’t want our relationship, whatever that may be, to just be you always coming to my rescue. That’s not fair.”

Betty sat up and hugged her knees to her chest. If he knew what her father had done, he wouldn’t still be so eager.

_How could someone hurt her so badly. Fucker._

“Okay, look. I would be lying if I said that I didn’t know what you and your family went through. After I saw you standing on that balcony, I spent my entire night reading everything I could about your father's’ case,” He glanced at Betty, whose eyes were transfixed straight ahead. “Betty, he is a terrible person who did terrible things. And those terrible things had repercussions and hurt you in the process. But that doesn’t mean you’re not worth fixing.”

Betty turned two tearful green eyes to look at him. Jughead was rarely this open about what he felt but he knew this was something she needed to hear. Her expression broke his heart. She truly believed she wasn’t worth the attention.

“C’mere you.” He opened his arms widely and was relieved when she scooted over the bed, and climbed, side-saddle, onto his lap. She rested her head on his shoulder, burying her face in his grey tee. Jughead pressed a kiss to her hair and tightened his arms around her, his fingers running back and forth over her bare legs.

“Thank you, Jug.” She whispered.

“You’re welcome. And okay, I realise we still have a lot of learning about each other to do, but whatever you want me to be, I’ll be. You want a friend, you got it. You want something more?... well, you can have that too.” He felt Betty nod against his chest.

“Now, as much as I love to hear the sound of my own melodious voice, I do believe you’re in need of a shower. I’m going to pop back to my place, sort some things out and I’ll come round in about an hour so we can go on our picnic. Yeah?” Betty looked up at him, her pouty bottom lip still firmly wedged between her teeth.

“Yeah, that sounds like a plan. I need to find us some food.” She started to remove herself from Jughead’s lap, but he held her tight a moment longer.

He sighed into her hair, breathing in her scent. She smelt like heaven. Jughead dropped his arms and smiled at her, “Okay, now you can go.”

Betty blushed and smacked him in the arm. “Guess I know where you’ve placed your bets then.”

Jughead acted mock-offended as he watched her cross the room to the bathroom adjoining her room. Betty’s pale long legs were mesmerizing. And it would be a lie if he said he didn’t enjoy watching her in just her t-shirt from the day before, underwear and bed hair.

“You mock my good intentions, Madam. Enjoy your shower. Try not to let things get to _steamy_ whilst you’re in there without me.” He yelled out, laughing to himself. He was shameless in his flirting and he could have sworn he could hear Betty blushing from the bedroom.

Jughead took one more look around the room, and as he heard the shower come on, walked back out to the balcony to go and deal with some more prickly issues.

 

 

*     *     *

**Betty POV:**

As Betty sat next to the picnic basket on her porch, she thought back to her less than normal morning.

Jughead Jones had called her, Betty ‘Plain Jane’ Cooper, an enigma.

No one had ever called her that before and certainly no one as handsome and brooding as Jughead. Perhaps this picnic would allow her to get a bit more information out of him. She hoped he was ready to share.

There was something about him that she couldn’t quite describe. Maybe it was the way he spoke, or moved, or both. Everything about him invited her in. She wanted more.

They had been so close to kissing in her bedroom that morning, that Betty surprised herself with how disappointed she was when he groaned and pulled away, leaving her with nothing but built up desire and sadness at the sudden rejection. Almost as if he sensed her upset, Jughead had rushed to explain himself and she had been forced to think clearly, realising he was probably right.

They did hardly know each other, and it was almost certainly in their best interest if they got to know each other better first before things started to heat up. Besides, it seemed liked Jughead Jones would have a lot to tell her, if he finally let her in enough to answer some more prickly questions. Betty had no doubt that he would want to know things about her very public court case – he was a writer after all. Maybe she could get to talk about his writing? It would be a good way to get him speaking and relax a little, before she started asking more heavy questions.

Betty looked down and checked the clock on her phone. It was now past the agreed meeting time. Her eyes roamed to the garage next door and noticed both bikes were missing. She chewed on her lip, while she thought about what to do. She didn’t have a number to text him and ask where he was, and she wasn’t too keen on going over to his house and knocking on the door like some desperate loon. Besides, there was something about that house, no matter how quaint or like her own, that creeped her out. The constantly closed curtains, the unkept yard. Something just didn’t want her there – and Betty wasn’t about to tempt fate.

She was just about to go inside and have a picnic by herself when she heard a thunderous roar coming down the street. Looking up she saw the black Harley Davidson approaching her house, pulling to a stop out the front of her house. The figure on the bike turned off the ignition and pulled off the helmet, revealing a slightly stressed and apologetic looking Jughead.

He practically bounded off the bike and up the garden path to Betty’s porch. And before she had a chance to say anything, Jughead was spitting out apologies.

“I’m so sorry, Betty!” He franticly half yelled as he ran up the stairs, shoving on his beanie over his wild black hair. “Things took a little longer than expected, and then, somehow, I got caught in traffic. Which, believe it or not, is a rare occurrence in this town. And I didn’t have your number, so I couldn’t tell you I was running late and…” He was tugging on his fringe which flopped out the front of his beanie and gesticulating wildly with the other. Betty found the whole thing slightly funny. He was more worked up than she was.

_I think Mr Jones might be nervous…_

Betty rolled her eyes and laid a single finger to his lips. “Shhh. It’s fine. Let’s go while we still can.”

Jughead stood there in stunned silence before shaking his head and smiling at her. To Betty, it almost looked like a computer rebooting after an error. She smiled.

“Of course! Right. Er… let’s go!” Jughead seemed nervous as he grabbed the picnic basket and started down the path with Betty hot on his heels.

She followed as Jughead stomped his way through the forest in front of them. Passing trawling green ferns and fallen logs, the whole area was really quite stunning. It didn’t take Betty long to realise that Jughead seemed to be guiding her to the little opening she had found a few days ago. They trundled along in compatible silence for another few minutes, both enjoying the beauty surrounding them.

Betty didn’t say anything as they arrived at the small grassy knoll, the brook bubbling into the small pond greeting them.  Jughead stopped underneath the large oak tree and pulled out the picnic rug for them both to sit down on.

Betty looked around and smiled. It figured she wasn’t the only one who knew about this little oasis, but she liked that Jughead seemed to be very at home in a place she had enjoyed.

Jughead looked at her expectantly and patted the space on the rug next to him, motioning for her to come and join him. She had a million questions running through her head as she stepped out into the clearing and over to the waiting Jughead on the rug.

But most of all, she just wanted to know if he felt about her how she was beginning to feel about him.

_Deep breath - let’s do this._


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay guys - Christmas period is a hectic time! Just a heads up for those who need it. This chapter may contain some triggering imagery. Just be forewarned. This is a heavy chapter but it should be one of the only ones! Hopefully have to love and lightness soon! As always, leave a comment and let me know what you think.  
> Until next time!  
> G.

CHAPTER 6

**Jughead POV:**

Jughead had never been so stressed about being late for something in his whole life. He had been sitting in the Whyte Wyrm listening to an old school Serpent named Tito rant about how life would be better if his father was back in Riverdale where he belongs, when he had looked down at his phone and saw the time.

The white numbers glowed bright as if to mock him, as if they were saying ‘ _You’re late for a very important date.’_

He stood up so fast, everyone suddenly grew silent, confused looks marking all their faces. A slightly frantic Jughead sputtered something about having to leave and stomped out the door before he had time to hear them question him as to why the sudden departure.

He was flying down the main road on his bike with only one thought running rampant through his mind.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuckity fuck._

He hoped Betty hadn’t just given up and realised what a moron he was. It was so fucking stupid – they had just met but Jughead couldn’t help himself with Betty. He would be shattered if she decided to ghost him. She should, if she knew what was good for her – what was safe for her. But he hoped she wouldn’t. He was damaged goods and he knew he couldn’t be salvaged, but she could and deserved to be saved.

Moments later he roared down their street and saw a bored looking Betty sitting pretty on her porch, a packed picnic basket sitting next to her.

 _Shit._ He was going to have to do some serious apologising.

Jughead pulled up in front of the house and practically ripped off his helmet in his haste to put on his beanie and run up the path to the waiting Betty. The apology couldn’t escape from his mouth faster.

_Remember: don’t let it on that you’re nervous._

“I’m so sorry, Betty! Things took a little longer than expected, and then, somehow, I got caught in traffic. Which, believe it or not, is a rare occurrence in this town. And I didn’t have your number, so I couldn’t tell you I was running late and…” Jughead's anxious rambling was stopped quite suddenly by a single finger pressed against his moving lips. He was instantly stunned into silence.

_Great job. So subtle._

This was the first time he had properly looked at Betty since getting off his bike and he noticed she looked mildly amused at his panicked state. But he knew girls well enough that they had the capabilities to be amused by your fuck-ups and be annoyed at you at the same time. Jughead had learned that the hard way. He just hoped and prayed she wasn’t too annoyed at him.

Betty started to speak first, “Shhh. It’s fine. Let’s go while we still can.”  She nodded towards the woods and the growing afternoon sun, which now sat at almost the highest peak. If they didn’t go soon, they wouldn’t be able to enjoy each other’s company for long.

Jughead, who was still shocked about how confidently she had quietened him, shook his head to clear his thoughts and cleared his throat.

He reached for the picnic basket sitting beside the smiling Betty. “Of course! Right. Er… let’s go!”

_I hope you realise what a loser you sound like, dumbass._

And with that awkward exclamation, they were off. Jughead walked ahead of Betty, ensuring the path was clear for her to follow and to allow himself some time to prep himself for what he assumed would be an assault of questions from the journalist’s daughter.

The walk wasn’t a particularly long one, but it was pretty one. The forest that surrounded Riverdale was mostly untouched by loggers or people in general for that matter. It was lush, green and teeming with wildlife. More than once Jughead had spotted some wild deer happily munching on the grass that grew, still wet with morning dew. It didn’t bother him really that they didn’t speak during the walk. Their silence was comfortable. Peaceful.

He chucked a quick glance over his shoulder to see how Betty was doing and if she was still close-by.

_Wow…_

The way the green of the forest lit her eyes made Jughead’s breath hitch. Green was definitely Betty’s colour. Turning back, he focused on the path ahead – also, so he could hide the blush that was sneaking up his cheeks. A few more minutes and they arrived at the clearing. Jughead strode over to the large oak tree and pulled out the neatly packed tartan picnic blanket Betty had so thoughtfully packed and plopped down onto the ground, stretching his legs out in front of him.

When he looked up, he saw Betty had stopped at the edge of the clearing and was smiling at something - Him or the pond he wasn’t quite sure. He hoped it was him though. Jughead had never brought someone else here before, and as far as he knew, he was the only person who knew about it. It felt like he was bringing someone into his inner sanctum. But he something inside of him just told him to bring her here. That she was, or was going to be, important enough to trust with something like this.

He patted the blanket next to him and Betty’s head snapped towards the sound. She smiled when she saw him and he, being the hopelessly crushing fool, smiled back – teeth and all.

_Real sexy, Jones. Good work._

Betty seemed to stall herself from a moment, and then strode over to him, and folded herself down next to him, legs crossed like she was in primary school. He watched her for a moment, as she sighed happily, breathing in the mountain air before he realised that he was staring for perhaps a moment too long, and busied himself with finding them something to eat in the basket she had packed.

Inside were three perfectly wrapped sandwiches, contents of which he could not see. A small container with some fresh dark red cherries and a large metal bottle and two glasses. Grabbing a sandwich for himself, he held out the other one to Betty. She snapped out of whatever he was thinking and flashed him a big smile, taking the small package and unwrapping it.

“Thank you, Jughead.” She was still smiling at him. “This whole area is lovely.” She gestured to the beauty that surrounded them.

“You are more than welcome, Miss Cooper. I should be thanking you anyway. You’re the one who packed this amazing sandwich.” Betty looked up at Jughead through her lashes as he spoke, chewing on her food.

“You’re welcome, Jug.”

Jughead tried to not inwardly give into his desires of throwing the food aside and kissing her. Instead he took a large bite of his, now noted, chicken and salad. This clearing may have been beautiful, but it had nothing on her. 

_Anything to keep yourself occupied from those pouty lips._

They munched away happily for a few more minutes in compatible silence. It was only broken when Betty poured them both, what Jughead now knew was homemade lemonade. It tasted just like his mothers. He savoured it quietly, mentally thanking Betty for reminding him of a better period in his life.

Betty stretched out on the rug next to him, kicking off her shoes and socks and leaning back on her arms, staring off into the canopy of gently swaying branches above them. In that moment, Jughead had never seen her look so stunning. He wished he had brought his sketch pad, so he could have captured it.

“So, when are the questions going to start firing? Or am I going to do the honours of breaking this silence?” He smiled at her, as she squinted at him in the summer sun.

“No, I’m happy to start the probing. Are you ready?” There was a devilish edge to Betty’s voice that slightly unnerved Jughead.

_Oh no. Hope you’re ready, Jonesy boy._

“Uh yeah… should I be worried? You look like you’re going to enjoy this far too much.” He chuckled at her, sitting up to face her & she mirrored him.

Betty laughed. A melodious sound. He’d never tire of her laugh.

“Of course, you should be worried! I want to know all the juicy details Mr. Jones.” She winked at him and Jughead thought he had a stroke.

_Breathe._

He decided to not let Betty onto how nervous he was feeling. Instead, he decided he would approach her questions in the only way he knew how. Cocky and confident. And perhaps a little bit flirty. Well, who was he kidding – a lot flirty.

“Okay. Give me your best shot. I’ll answer one question, and then I get to ask you one. No holdback. Only truth. Deal?” He held out his hand for her to shake, which she quickly did – nodding enthusiastically.

“Deal. Alright, my first question…How come your father sent some dirty looking guys to check on you?” Her eyes were curious, but she was determined and focused.

“Uh Jesus...fuck. Okay, right in the deep end.” Jughead chuckled nervously and ran his fingers through the hair which hung out from the front of his beanie. So, he told her. He told her about his father’s gang business. About how Jughead was now sort of the leader and he was facing some internal issues, and about how his father was out there now, probably waging war in another part of the country, all to stake his gangs claim to the land.

She didn’t say a word while he spoke and for that he was grateful. When he had finished, Betty nodded and looked at him with non-judgemental eyes. He let out a shaky breath he didn’t know he had been holding in. It was nice to be able to talk about something like that and to not have people jumping down his throat. He knew it wasn’t good. He knew what his father did and what he was involved in was bad. But he had to make do with the situation. He did what he had to do to survive. Not many people understood that – but he knew Betty did.

She was a survivor, just like him.

Betty placed her hand on his and squeezed it gently. “Thank you for being so honest with me, Jug. I’m not going to hold any judgement against you – I get the feeling this isn’t your first choice at a lifestyle.”

Jughead warmed at her words and slipped his fingers between hers. He ran his thumb over the back of her knuckles and he could have sworn he heard her sigh. Smiling up at her, he saw she had moved slightly closer to him. Their crossed knees were almost touching. The electricity that crackled between them rippled at the feeling of her skin on his.

“Right, so it’s my turn to ask a question.” Jughead saw a moment of panic flash in Betty’s eyes as he spoke. He knew that she was worried about what he would find out about her. That perhaps she thought that after he knew things about her, he wouldn’t like her anymore.

_As if there’s any chance of that…_

She nodded and Jughead thought for a moment, pondering what he wanted to ask. “I want to know what you see when you close your eyes. Something terrible haunts you, I know it does.” He raised his free hand and traced her dark circles – Betty’s eyes fluttered closed at his touch.

It was a moment before she spoke. Her beautiful green eyes opened and Jughead saw flatness. A dissociative nothingness that scared Jughead. He knew that this must be difficult for her. Betty pulled away from him, pulling her legs up to her chest and turning her head to speak into the trees, not looking him.

“It was just after my 13th birthday when it all started…Things had been _bad_ for a while, but I was too young to recognise that. I was living with my angry alcoholic father, going to school and pretending to be normal - all the while trying to hide the bruises…the scars.” Jughead heard Betty sniff but he didn’t move. He was going to let her do this in her own time.

 

**Betty POV:**

“Dad had made this friend at some bar. I knew the moment I saw him that I didn’t trust him – something about the way he looked at me just set my teeth on edge. His name was Henry Hill, you probably saw his name in the papers with my fathers. A convicted child molester and all around major criminal scumbag.” Betty could see his face as she spoke. She remembered how clean cut he looked. How normal and everyday his outer appearance would look to everyone else. But in his dark brown eyes, Betty saw horrible things.

"As I got older and I started to hit puberty, things slowly got worse. I had always looked like my mother, and I knew how much that annoyed him. I was a constant reminder of the wife he couldn’t keep. But now, I was 15 and looking even more like a woman. I could see the way that the boys looked at me at school had changed but I hated the attention. The more attention I had, the more likely someone would know what was going on at home.” She quickly chanced a look at Jughead, and she saw his blue eyes looking at her in concern. Betty turned away and took in a shaky breath. If she looked at him while she spoke, she knew that she wouldn’t be able to get it all out.

“So, I wore baggy clothes, concentrated on my school work and hid myself in my room whenever Dad and Henry were around the house. And that worked for a while…until one day…it didn’t.” Betty could feel her nails cutting into her palms. “I was coming home from school and saw Henry’s black car in our driveway. He usually wasn’t at our house during the day, so this was strange to begin with. I was unlocking the front door, mentally preparing myself to spend more of my evening in my room than usual when the door opened, and Henry was standing there. He smiled at me with that vile… _look_ and I just knew something bad was going to happen. “

Betty hadn’t noticed that she had her eyes squeezed shut until she felt a large warm hand on her shoulder.

“You don’t have to tell me if this is too much for you.” Jughead's voice was like warm honey soothing her wounds but she could hear in his tone how worried he was.

“No,” She shook her head, “Let me finish. Please…” Betty looked at him, tears rimming her eyes and Jughead nodded. His hand moved back to his lap and he nodded for her to continue. “I don’t remember exactly what happened next, but the next thing I knew I was in my bedroom, tied to my bed in nothing but my underwear and my head felt like it was on fire.” Betty’s fingers absent-mindedly rubbed the back of her scalp where Henry or her father (she still wasn’t sure who) had hit her over the back of her head as she had walked inside that day. “I was terrified, Jughead. I’d seen enough in TV and movies to know how this was going to end. The ropes they had tied me with were rubbed away at my skin as I struggled to get myself out. I had tape over my mouth, so I couldn’t scream. I had never wished for death so much in my life.”

She smiled at him sadly, as her tears fell. Jughead scooted closer so he was right beside her and wiped the tears falling down her cheeks. The sweetness of the moment made her heart jump even though she was reliving her worst memories.

“Go on…”

“My father came into the room first. He was dressed as he always was, khakis and a blue button up. He had rolled up the sleeves, so he didn’t get blood on himself. As he punched me, he told me how much I reminded him of all his mistakes – of my Mom. How I had only brought this onto myself. I remember him saying that after Henry had punished me, I would see that he was being gentle with me…and he was right. I was floating in and out of consciousness when Henry came into the room. Dark jeans and a black shirt. Hair perfectly groomed – not a single thing out of place. I think that’s part of what scared me so much. He looked _too_ perfect.” The stinging in her palms meant that she had broken the skin. But she didn’t unclench her fists, just pressed them harder relishing the pain it brought.

_Broken things deserve pain…Remember?_

“Henry wasn’t about instant pain like my father was. He tortured. Slowly picking you apart until your sanity snaps. For him, it wasn’t about anger. It was an obsessive-compulsive need for obedience and sexual pleasure. He’s mentally sick in all the wrong ways. He saved the raping me for last though, thank god. By that point he had been going at it for what could have been hours. I was nothing but numb. The white-hot pain I had felt earlier had been replaced by a hollow nothingness. I remember watching this blue dragonfly on the wall in my room as he pushed himself in and out of my broken body, groping me...breaking me. I remember thinking how lucky it was that it could just fly away and never see this room again. When he was done Henry untied me, carried me to the bathroom and washed me clean. He bandaged my cuts and gashes, all the while talking to me about how I was his favourite plaything now. Then he dressed me and put me to bed. This went on for another 6 months until someone at my school noticed something was seriously wrong…and well… you know the rest.”

She turned to look at him, her tears falling freely and silently down her cheeks. “So now you know, Jughead. When I close my eyes, I see them. The man who was supposed to love me and his vile friend. Their sick smiles and rotten breath. The sounds he made as he raped me. As he beat me. And I can’t stop them…I…I... I can’t stop them, Jug.” Betty sobbed into her lap, looking down at her bloody palms, the pain wracking her chest like an ice-pick.

Jughead’s warmth enveloped her, pulling her tiny frame onto his lap as he wrapped himself around her, protecting her from the outside world. The fire that crackled between them exploded at his touch, like a sweet release. He didn’t say a word as he let her cry it out. Betty had done so much crying, but this was new. This cry felt like it was healing her, if only a little.

Jughead pressed his lips to her forehead and held her tighter. “I’ll help you stop them, Betts. Just tell me how.”

It was going to be a long journey, but suddenly that light at the end of the dark tunnel seemed a little clearer.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for the wait, but I took some time off over the holidays to celebrate with my loved ones. Back to our regular programming now hopefully. This chapter is a little lovey and whole lotta sweet. I hope you guys enjoy after such an intense chapter last time! 
> 
> x

**Jughead POV:**

It had taken a moment for what Betty had said to sink in. He had read newspaper articles and the odd unlocked court document, but he had no idea the extent to which she had suffered. And yet, in spite of all that suffering, here she was, beautiful and smiling – somehow. As she sobbed, Jughead held her close, locking his arms around her and pressing his face into the top of her head. The fire that rumbled between them roared, finally given the kindling it needed to ignite. It was a humming, buzzing warmth. Though unspoken, they both knew there was no turning back from whatever _this_ was now.

The sounds of her quiet sobs tore through Jughead's chest. He could feel her pain in every gut-wrenching cry. Her pain was his pain now.

At first, he had felt an overwhelming sadness for what had happened to her, but that was quickly overcome by a fierce anger. Anger at the man who was supposed to protect her and his repulsive friend. For him, it would be all too easy. With a phone call he could find out what prison they were in and have some of his men pay Hal Cooper and Henry Hall a visit. He wanted so badly to fuck up the men who had broken her so badly.

But he wouldn’t.

He couldn’t do that to her. Betty had so honestly laid out the pieces of her broken soul for him to mend, and he was going to do his best to put her back together again.

They had been sitting there, wrapped in each other for what seemed like hours when Betty’s phone rang. A shrill shriek in the still silence of the forest pond. Sniffing softly, Betty pulled her phone out of her pocket and showed him the screen. It was her mother. Probably calling to make sure that she was okay, and the house hadn’t burned down.

She swallowed loudly and cleared her throat before answering. Jughead loosened his grip on her but didn’t let her go. As she answered, she rested her head on his shoulder. It felt nice, like it was meant to be there.

“Hey Mom. How’s New York?”

Jughead did his best not to listen into the conversation. He turned his focus onto Betty’s arm, running his thumbs over the skin, tracing the freckles that spotted her creamy skin.

Apart from the occasional murmur or ‘Yeah, okay’ the conversation was mostly Alice talking and Betty nodding and listening. When she finally hung up, she dropped the phone onto the rug and snuggled back into Jughead. He looked down at her face, looking deep into her green eyes.

He resumed his tracing on her arm. “Everything okay? Is she coming back home early?”

Betty sighed. “Apparently, my father is misbehaving in jail and coughing up information on the trial to inmates. Problem for him is, people talk and its new information that could put him away for even longer. So, Mom may have to stay a little longer than she thought – maybe a week. She isn’t sure.”

Jughead shook his head. If he ever met Hal Cooper, he wasn’t sure what he would do. It would take a lot of restrain not to rip the life from him. But then he frowned, realising that meant a fragile Betty would be alone, for quite a long time – and that didn’t sit well with him.

_Protect her, Jones._

“Are you going to be okay by yourself?” Jughead twirled his fringe around his finger as he spoke “I mean, not that you’re not capable, but do you want to be by yourself?” He wasn’t going to say it, but he was asking in a roundabout way if she wanted him to stay over. Not for nefarious purposes, just for safety. At least, that’s what the non-hormonal side of him was saying.

Betty sighed into his arms, resigning and admitting defeat. “Yes, and no. I am capable of living by myself, but I have a feeling I’ve just opened a can of worms and I’m not sure what the repercussions of that will be.”

He nodded and tilted Betty’s chin with his forefinger and thumb. He held her sad green gaze with his blue. “If you want me to keep you company Betts – there’s no place I’d rather be.”

“Really? I don’t want to take you away from more important than little old me.” She started to disentangle herself from Jugheads lap, and he wasn’t having that. He clamped his arms back around her, holding her to him. Her head snapped up to look into his very determined eyes.

“Now, Betty Cooper I may not have known you long, but I for sure know when someone is important. And you, madam, are important. That - and I could use a little siesta from those morons my father calls comrades. Being a gang leader isn’t as easy as they make it out to be.” He made sure she heard the strength behind his words. Nothing she could say was going to make him think otherwise.

Betty rolled her eyes at him and poked his shoulder. “Fine. Maybe we can resume a…” she seemed to struggle for the word she wanted, “…less _intense_ version of 20 questions tonight? I’ll make dinner?”

Jughead laughed, “Of course. I think we both need to lighten up a little y’know? Less heavy topics…less heavy clothing. It’s all relative.”

A chuckle escaped her lips and he was happy to hear it. If he could make her smile, even a little bit, then his job was done. That didn’t stop him noticing the blush that crept up her cheeks at his cheeky innuendo.

“I think I’ll keep my clothing on, thank you very much. I’ve heard making dinner in the nude can cause all sorts of problems.”

Betty smirked at him and took a sip of her lemonade, eyes glinting mischievously behind a charade of innocence.

_Did she just say what I think she said?_

While Jughead was happy that Betty was feeling a little better, he almost spat out his drink at her cheeky remark. He hadn’t seen much of flirty Betty yet, and it seemed she was a lot more fun than he had thought she would be. Betty laughed as she watched Jughead struggle for words.

“Oh...right ...well If you’re sure then.” He took a big swig of his lemonade to distract himself from the little voice in the back of his head telling him that he needed another cigarette. He didn’t want to smoke in front of her if he could help it. She didn’t need him puffing away while she just sat there. He’d just have to deal with his frayed nerves in the old-fashioned way; by brushing them under the carpet and pretending they don’t exist.

He drummed his fingers against the picnic rug, Betty’s eyes trailing his fingers as he did so. Anything to keep his hands occupied.

“Looks like it’s starting to get dark. Should we head back, Jug?”

He looked up at the sky, the tell-tale signs of dusk licking at the corners of the sky.

Nodding, he looked over at Betty as she packed their things away. “Yeah, sounds like a plan. Do you need a hand?”

As he said the words, Betty started to pull the rug out from underneath Jughead so she could fold it away neatly.

“Oi! You want to wait until I’m off it before you fold it?” A slightly annoyed Jughead sputtered. He wasn’t used to someone just tossing him around – especially not someone as lovely as Betty Cooper.

“No, I think it’s more fun this way. Seeing you all flustered.” Her green eyes were glinting with her humorous remark.

“Oh, ha ha. Very funny. You think this is funny, Cooper? I’ll show you funny.”

And with that Jughead Jones launched himself at Betty and like a footballer catching a long ball, scooped her up and barrelled her into the ground, landing himself right on top of her and pinning her beneath him. From shock or actual amusement (Jughead wasn’t sure) Betty was breathlessly laughing as she tried to push him off top of her.

Jughead had planted both his arms either side of squirming Betty’s head and had his legs on either side of hers, effectively locking her in. Something in his head told him to be careful as after what happened to her, she might not be good with a man being so in control over her, so he watched her reaction carefully as he playfully pinned her down.

“Jughead! Oh my god! Get off me! For someone who looks skinny you’re deceptively heavy” She wheezed out in between laughing and feebly pushing at a laughing Jughead.

“It’s all muscle Cooper, I could plank here for a long time. You might never be free…”

 

**Betty POV:**

As Betty Cooper lay trapped underneath a surprisingly strong Jughead she couldn’t help but be slightly pleased at her predicament. After all, he was exceedingly handsome in that brooding, devil-may-care sort of way, and the way he looked at her made Betty into a puddle of mush.

At first, her reaction was complete shock at Jugheads unexpected playfulness (and brute strength) and then how much she enjoyed seeing him above her. It had crossed her mind that in all reality she should be not comfortable with Jughead holding this level of power over her because her father and Henry had also used similar positions of power. But something about this made her feel safe, not in danger. Like he was using his body to shield her from everything around them, and her world was entirely him.

_Your therapist is going to have a field day when you tell them about this._

She also enjoyed feeling Jughead, every inch of him. As much as he was trying to hold his weight against her, as she squirmed, she could feel him dropping lower.

“Jughead! Oh my god! Get off me! For someone who looks skinny you’re deceptively heavy” She laughed because she didn’t know what other reaction to have other than grabbing his face and kissing him. As much as she wanted to do that – she wasn’t sure he was still keen. Friends, sure. But lovers? A relationship? Even after what he now knew about her? Betty wasn’t sure.

“It’s all muscle Cooper, I could plank here for a long time. You might never be free…”

“Oh really?” she giggled.

Betty decided the fastest way to get him off her was a surprise attack. Mentally crossing her fingers that Jughead was ticklish, she started tickling him and cutting his little macho man thoughts in half.

And just as she had suspected, he relented, barking out laugher which was music to her ears and collapsed on top of her. This time, there was nothing in between them. He wasn’t holding himself up, and Betty had stilled. She could feel every inch of him and she was surprised by how much Jughead was clearly enjoying being so close to her. She felt undulated desire flow through her body.

The fire between them rippled with tension. Betty met Jughead's heated gaze and returned it. His eyes, now soft pools of inky blue watched her, flicking down to her lips and back to her face.

Betty lifted her hand cautiously, slowly moving towards the dark grey beanie which hardly seemed to leave his head. She wanted to see his dark messy hair free from its confines. She wanted to run her fingers through it. The apprehension in his eyes was clear. The beanie seemed to be some form of comfort blanket. A protective force from the outside world.

When she had been going through her horrors at home, she had worn the same baggy hoodie for months. It was a security blanket to her – she understood if this was his.

Carefully, not breaking eye contact, she lifted the crown beanie off his head and placed it beside them on the grass. The sun was now almost set, and the moons glow seemed to make his black hair shine. Jughead was still carefully watching her, as if he was unsure what she was up to.

_He looks scared._

Betty slid her hand into his hair, marvelling at the silky locks as they slipped through her fingers. Jughead dropped his head down, so his forehead rested on hers and sighed deeply.

“How does that feel, Jug?” She massaged her way down his head until her fingers found purchase on this hair at the nape of his neck.

“Like heaven.” He looked up at her, something unreadable flashed across his face and then he smiled. He looked content. “Thank you for being so gentle with me…especially after I was so rough with you.”

“You weren’t rough. Nothing I can’t handle.” She smiled at him, rolling them both over so they were laying on their sides, facing one another. Betty instantly missed the warmth, and the pressure of him on her.

Jughead leant forward, running his fingers down her cheek before cupping her jaw. She internally noted that he had that look on his face again. The one that she couldn’t quite identify.

Betty’s breathing was starting to come out fast and quick, her heart was racing at a million miles a minute. His thumb was trailing fire as it traced her jaw line and the desire Betty had felt before doubled in size and pooled somewhere down between her legs. There was no denying that every fibre in Betty Cooper wanted Jughead, and after what she had felt before, she was now pretty sure he felt the same way.

She realised that she had been unconsciously leaning forwards, into his touch and closer to his lips. Their foreheads were now pressed together and Jughead's thumb stopped its movements. Betty met Jughead's intense gaze, a million questions screaming through her mind but only one seemingly making the most sense.

_Kiss him. Kiss him. Kiss him. Kiss him._

She dragged her tongue lazily over her dry and cracked bottom lip, bringing it into her mouth and biting down to stop herself from sticking her tongue down his throat. Jughead groaned and shifted uncomfortably beside her, like his jeans were suddenly a little too tight. The sound made her whimper.

“Dammit Betty, do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?” It came out of his mouth as a growl, laden with desire.

Betty’s mouth dropped open, releasing her bottom lip. She could feel herself blushing as she spoke. “Probably as much as I want to kiss you.”

It was bold - that she knew. But she had a feeling that if one of them didn’t take the dive soon, they’d drive themselves crazy with hormones. Openly enticing Jughead into kissing her seemed to be the only way to truly be sure that he kissed her sooner rather than later. The shock flashed across his angular features before he grabbed her face between his hands and pulled her to him, pressing his lips against hers.

In that moment, the world could have exploded, and she wouldn’t have noticed.

Jughead’s warm lips moved against her own, gentle and passionate at the same time. She knew he was holding himself back, and she was okay with that. They would have plenty of time to kiss like their lives depended on it, at least - she hoped they did. This kiss was sweet, apprehensive and laden with unbridled desire. Betty felt his tongue sweep across the seam of her lips and she welcomed him in, deepening the kiss further. His hands roamed away from her face and came to rest on her waist, grasping her tightly to him.

When they broke apart, they were both gasping for air. To say that it was hot was an understatement. In all her years with Reggie, and other boys she’d kissed, she had never _ever_ felt the way she did when she kissed Jughead. It was like her entire body was on fire, alight with the passion and desire that seemed to entangle them both.

This… _fire_ was more than just some silly teenage hormonal hook-up. She knew it in her bones. This was something more. Something important.

Betty looked over to the slightly panting Jughead next to her, a satisfied smirk plastered on his face. His hair was sticking up in every direction from her hands and his lips were slightly swollen from their kiss.

He had always looked sexy but at that moment Betty had not seen him look hotter.  When he saw her staring, his smirk widened and he chuckled, a low melodious sound. Betty melted inside a little.

“Whatcha staring at, Betts?” He leant over to grab her face, gently placing a kiss on her own swollen lips before releasing her.

She blushed. “I’m not staring – I think I’m just in shock that it actually happened.”

He looked at her incredulously, laughing as he stood up with his hands on his hips. “Well, what did you expect? You practically dared me to!”

“I dared you!? You practically couldn’t take your eyes off my mouth, Jug. I know you wanted it - just as much as I did.” She stood up at match up, crossing her arms in front of her. Their playful banter was a nice refresher from all the darkness that seemed to follow her and all her relationships.

Jughead’s head snapped back in her direction and he strode over to her and grasped her face tenderly between his hands. Scarred and rough hands she knew had been behind some rather tough and angry things.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since I saw you on that balcony. Since I sat next to you in your bed. Since this very second.”

His eyes were intense and almost dark with desire. Betty looked up at him through her lashes and rested her forehead on his lips, sighing as he pulled her into a warm embrace.

“Don’t think you ever, for a second, have to ask to kiss me Jug.”

She felt him nod against her. “Ditto, Cooper.”

As much as she didn’t want to leave the encapsulating warmth that was Jughead, Betty pulled herself out of his embrace and grabbed the picnic basket and blanket.

“C’mon. Time for you to walk me home. I think I could do with a nice hot shower.” She held her hand out behind her for him to take.

Jughead smiled warmly at her, stuffing his beanie back onto his head and followed her back into the forest.

_Finally._


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally getting into some Jug backstory (which is a little heavy) but outweighed by a little Betty and Jug time. Sorry for the wait guys - enjoy! 
> 
> G x

**Betty POV:**

Betty was walking out of her bathroom, decked out in her pyjamas and towelling her hair when she heard the now familiar clank of the front door open, and the steady tread of Jug’s boots on the wooden stairs as he made his way upstairs to her room.

It had been a few days since she had seen him. After they had hiked their way out of the forest and back to their houses, they had (sadly) parted ways. Jughead had some business to take care of for his father and Betty had wanted some alone time in her new house, just getting to know the area, to have a hot shower, and to re-group mentally a little. Ever since she had arrived in Riverdale, her entire world had revolved around Jughead. Now, almost a week after moving in, she felt it was time to see her handsome neighbour again. That – and she wanted time to set up a space for Jughead on the floor next to her bed, so he could spend the night before Alice returned to her.

Logically, she knew he was probably going to end up in her bed at some point in the evening, but the good girl inside of her still wanted to set up the bed, in case someone saw, and things didn’t end up going to plan. She felt like naughty child again, going against her mother’s wishes. But Betty reasoned with herself that her mother hadn’t explicitly said no boys aloud in her room, so she wasn’t exactly breaking any rules.

She smiled to herself as her bedroom door swung open and in strode Jughead, backpack in one hand and a giant ‘Pops Chocklit Shoppe’ bag in the other.

Before Betty could protest by saying she was supposed to make him dinner, he held up his hand, in an effort to quieten what he knew would be an annoyed Betty.

As he unpacked the food on her bed he spoke, “Look - I know you said you’d cook but you have been cooking for yourself for a few days so I thought a little comfort food might come in handy. So, don’t protest. Just savour and enjoy.”

Betty hmphed and crossed her arms but again admitted defeat to Jugheads words of logic and sense. While she had been standing in the shower, she had realised how tired she was, and she had no idea what she was going to make him for dinner. It was almost as if he knew her better than she knew herself.

“Fine…Thank you, Jug. I feel like I’m saying that a lot lately. But I mean it – Thank you.”

Her words were appreciative and honest. Jughead smiled at her through a bite of his burger, pushing her meal towards her. A large serving of bacon cheese fries and a small container of sour cream and green onions. It smelled divine. It was clear everything was homemade, from the cheese sauce to the French fries.

And so, they sat on her bed and they ate, idly chatting away about topics of not much importance. Who supported what sports teams, what music they liked and which movies and shows were permanently on rotation on their Netflix accounts. This was the twenty questions Betty had intended to play when they had gone for their picnic.

_He looks so relaxed…so…at home here._

Jughead was lounging, his jeans were swapped for dark grey tracksuit pants, and his leather jacket was slung over the back of Betty’s desk chair. His beanie was still fastened to his head, masking his unruly black locks from her fingers.  He smiled up at her with a questioning look on his face.

“Whatcha thinking there, Nancy Drew?” He crumpled his burger wrapper up and aimed it at the bin, sinking the shot. He smirked back at her, obviously making sure she saw his trick.

Betty rolled her eyes and lightly shoved him, her expression was amused.

“Just thinking how at home you look right now…like you… _belong._ ” Her tongue lingered on the last word, unsure of the implications it would bring. She let it hang in the air.

His expression softened and he reached for her face, gently cupping it, his thumb padding over her bottom lip. “That’s because you make me feel like I belong here.”

Betty thought for a moment, pondering how to best phrase her words. She really liked that he felt so relaxed around her, and in her home. From what she now knew of his past, he had never really had a family or even someone who could provide a very stable home life. It seemed like his entire life had been a mess of broken promises and delayed dreams.

At least, to her it was.

She sighed, leaning her head into his hand and pressing a gentle kiss to his thumb.

“I’m glad I can be of some help to you. Running a gang must be a pretty full on gig, Jug.”

He nodded, laying back on his blow-up mattress and blankets. “You have no idea.”

It was dry, and stony cold. There was no humour in his voice. Betty didn’t need to see his eyes to know how glacial they would be. She nodded into her arms.

They sat for a few moments in silence before Jughead broke it. “Hey, Betts – do you mind if I take a shower? Need to wash this mop?” He pointed to his head, smiling, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Betty knew he was silently asking if he could spend just a moment alone to reorganise his thoughts, and she was fine with that. She knew he’d probably had a long day. But what really got her to say yes was the thought of a hot, steaming and dripping wet Jughead walking around her bedroom in almost no clothing at all.

_Maybe I’ll get to see Jughead in just a towel…_

“Oh, yeah. Of course. There are towels in the cupboard if you want one. Toothpastes in the cupboard if you need it too.” She said, gesturing towards the bathroom door, the smile on her face a little too eager, her cheeks blushed with rosy pink.

“Thanks, Betts. I won’t be long. No peeking, okay?” He smirked at her as he grabbed a toiletries bag out of the small backpack he carried and headed for the bathroom.

As the door clicked closed Betty must have been the colour of beetroot. She could feel herself flushing from the tips of her ears to her toes. He truly didn’t have any idea the effect that he had on her. With every word he spoke in his whisky-velvet voice, Betty quivered. He could have read her a grocery list and she would have been a puddle on the floor, entirely at his mercy.  She had no idea how she was going to last a whole evening with him in such close proximity, and in such small amounts of clothing.

The sound of the shower and the faint sounds of Jughead moving around inside the bathroom relaxed Betty. It just re-affirmed to her that he belonged here, with her. Though it had never happened before, there was a sense of familiarity to it that she just couldn’t place. But whatever it was, she was living for it.

Betty took the time Jughead was indisposed to quickly brush her hair and give herself a once over in her phone’s camera. She was still the same person she had seen staring back at her in the motel mirror, but her eyes had changed. What once held dread, and fear, now looked back with hope. Those dark circles, though still visible, were lessened, and her once gaunt skin had been lightly kissed by the sun, bringing out the freckles she hated so much as a child. She was starting to heal, if only a little bit. Her scars would fade, but they would always be there – reminders of a childhood that was stolen and destroyed.

Before she could get too lost in her own downward spiral, the bathroom door opened, and out came a bare-chested Jughead, his tracksuit pants slung low on his muscled body, his t-shirt and toiletries bag in one hand, the other running the towel over his head as he walked.

“Your shower is actually amazing. I am surprised I managed to drag myself away from it.” He dropped the towel in the hamper next to the door and smiled at Betty as she watched him walk over to the bed.

When he bent down to place the bag on the floor, Betty glimpsed in shock at the scarring that ran like lightning down from his left shoulder to his right hip. The main seam of the scar was fractured and intersected by little fingers of feathering skin as if the fire had been trying to give him wings. The scars were a faded light pink, slightly raised due to the heat of the shower, but they were long healed. Betty knew all too well the mental took far longer to heal than the physical. The horrors that had scarred his skin this was must have played havoc on his young mind.

As if he remembered he was not wearing a shirt, he suddenly stood bolt upright, looking at Betty uneasily. She patted the bed next to her, keeping her expression neutral as she did so, and watched as he slowly sank down, his inky blue eyes keeping her gaze - fearful…afraid.

She took his large hand in hers, bringing it to her lips and kissed it gently before laying it in her lap. She looked up at him, her green to his blue, and nodded for him to speak. She wasn’t going to push it out of him – she knew if he hadn’t brought this up yet there was clearly a reason. Hopefully he trusted her enough with something that troubled him deeply.

 

**Jughead POV:**

Jughead knew when he saw her shocked face that she had seen his back. She had tried to hide it, like most people do when they see something so horrific, but in his gut he knew. He had stood bolt upright the second he realised, praying that the desk light wasn’t bright enough to illuminate everything, but nothing ever worked for Jughead in his favour. He had been so relaxed after his unbelievable shower that he hadn’t even thought to cover his back. He had wanted to save Betty the trouble of hearing the horrible gruesome details of his past – she had enough demons to fight that she didn’t need his. But now - after all she told him at the picnic – he guessed it was probably his turn to bare all; he just didn’t mean it this literally.  

The truth was, he didn’t even know how to speak about something like this. It was like the words turned to smoke in his throat, choking him and turning to ash in his mouth. The thought of telling her, terrified him. She had become important…someone who he knew he could rely on to be there for him, but something like this was a whole different ball game, one he wasn’t sure he was ready to play. He watched her as she patted the spot next to her on the bed, gesturing him to sit down next to her. Betty’s face had gone from shocked to calm, her green eyes like glistening pond water, reflecting the unruffled trees around them.

As he lowered himself onto the bed, Betty grabbed his hand and gently brought it to her lips, pressing them onto each of his knuckles, in a loving caring gesture, and then placed his hand in her lap and nodded for him to speak.

He knew she could see the fear in his eyes, it was unbridled and wild. He could feel his pulse running rampant and he was sure he was either going to vomit or faint but wasn’t sure which was better in Betty’s pristine room.

_Blood on the carpet or vomit?...Hmm…tough choice. Better just get this over with, Jones._

He looked down at his lap, he knew he wouldn’t be able to get the words out if he was looking at her heartbreakingly beautiful face while he spoke such horrors.

“When I was a child, we lived in Toledo. Me, my Dad, my Mom and my little sister. It was a reasonably normal life, really. Dad ran his gang but tried his best not to bring it home to us, and my mother worked at the local mechanics. She loved working on cars, or better yet, bikes. Sometimes when she couldn’t get the neighbours to look after us, we’d go with her to work, and watch her with glee as she pulled engines apart and put them back together again. It made her happy, y’know?” Jughead ran a hand through his wet hair, silently wishing he had his beanie.

“Well, I knew our life wasn’t…perfect. We certainly weren’t rich, and my parents fought like cats and dogs whenever they were home long enough to see each other. My parents together in a room was like bringing a can of gasoline to some matches and wondering if it would explode. My mother wanted Dad to get out of the gang and find a steady job. And my father, who’s family for generations has been the head of the Serpents, couldn’t believe the blasphemy she would speak against him. To him, being a leader of the Serpents was a birthright, and privilege. She didn’t see it that way. I think she mostly just knew what was coming my way…my future, was to be just like his.” Jughead could still see them screaming at his other in his mind, the way his mother would beg his father to find something that wouldn’t bring such horrible things to her son, and his father, smacking his hand across his mother’s face when she got to close. The sound of shattering glass as a cup was thrown and crashing to the floor.

“By the time I was 13, things between them were violent. He would come home from the gang and wouldn’t say a word to us. He would just silently grab my mother as she thrashed and pull her into the bedroom and lock the door. I remember grabbing Jellybean, she was only a toddler, and sitting outside on the porch, so we didn’t have to listen to her cry out…It broke me, Betty. I wanted nothing more than the take my Mom and Jelly and just leave my Dad behind us. But whenever I told it to my Mom, she just got this broken look on her face and told me, ‘Wouldn’t that be grand, baby?’ and then she’d pour herself another glass of whisky and go tinker with the car in the garage. How none of our neighbours called the cops, I’ll never know. Or maybe they did, but they were in my father’s grips, I don’t know…”

He was staring at the wall, doing anything he could to not look at his Betty’s face. But she was still holding his hand, clasped firmly in hers – supporting him silently.

“One day, I was on my usual walk home from school when I smelt it. It was smoke, and it was strong. As I rounded the corner of our street, I saw it. My house…our home, completely engulfed in flames. I ran as fast as my legs would take me and saw my father and his friends standing out the front, leaning against their bikes, smiles on their faces. I remember screaming at them, asking where was my mom, where was Jelly? And he just looked at me, a hollow void, and said that ‘she had played with fire long enough, now she has to deal with the consequences.’ I knew in my gut that he had lit the fire…and my mother and Jelly were inside…” Jughead could smell the smoke as if he were right there again, terrified and afraid, watching his whole world burn around him. The words caught in his throat, and it was only now he realised the tears as they dripped down his face.

“I screamed at him that he was a monster, but he just laughed and told me if I wanted to save them, I better hurry before the fire took it all. I have never been so petrified in my life, Betty. I ran inside the house, but the flames were so strong…I could feel my clothes melting. I tried calling out to them, but I could barely hear myself over the flames, let alone them. Soon enough, the fire became too much, and I had to go back. Back to my waiting father and his friends. As I stepped out what was the front door a loud bang rang out from inside the house, and then the screams started. It was my mother, Betty…I listened as my father held me back, as she burnt alive at his hands…We later found out that my sister had been shot. My mother must have wanted to spare her the death of being burned alive…but then she had to experience that herself.” The bile ran up his throat and he swallowed it down, willing himself to finish his story before he was sick.

A quick glance at Betty and she saw anger in her eyes, and tear tracks down her cheeks. “Go on, Jug.”

“By the time the fire brigade and the ambulances arrived our house was almost gone, and so too was my mother, and sister. It was too late. My father had told the people on the scene that he had come home to the house on fire, and I, being his fearless son, had tried to brave the flames to save my trapped family. And everyone bought it…or at least, they knew not to question FP Jones and his version of events lest the devil befall them. It took a few surgeries to fuse the skin on my back to the correct alignment, and then once I was healed, I was back on the road with my father. I had been offered counselling, but my father had refused it, saying a real man doesn’t need to talk about it. I was terrified of him, but as I grew older, I learned how to be the heir he wanted…but we know how that turned out. Every night when I close my eyes, Betty, I hear her screams…can smell the cinder and ash, the heat of the flames as they melted my skin. Everything. So, I don’t sleep – I drink, I draw, I do anything I can to stay away from that for as long as I can. And now you know…I’m fucked up in all the wrong ways.” His voice was cold, like ice. He knew he was human trash, he just wished the one person who thought he was good, didn’t know it.

Before he could look up and see the disgust on her face that he knew would be there (why wouldn’t it be…he was disgusted at himself), Betty launched herself at Jughead, straddling his lap and wrapping her arms around his bare shoulders in a tight vice.

Jugheads arms snaked around Betty’s waist and gripped her tightly as the tears he had kept in for too many years dripped from his face onto her shoulder. He had never been much of a crier, but something about her just let his guard down, and he had no control over it…much like his growing feelings for her.

She pulled back to look him in the eyes, her fingers gently wiping the tears from his face. As he looked into her eyes, he saw a fierce intensity he hadn’t expected. It was anger and compassion and…love? All rolled into one emotion. No sign of disgust anywhere – at least, not a disgust directed at him.

“Jughead Jones…if you’re fucked up, then so am I.” She kept his gaze as she spoke, her voice shining with its power. “I am so sorry that something like this happened to you. It is more than anyone…any _child_ should have to experience. Your father sounds like a terrifyingly fucked up person. And you have to live with him…I escaped my demon, but you see him every day. I am in awe of how strong you are, Jug…please don’t be ashamed. I’m sure your mother knew how strong you are…and how proud she would be of you, Jug. You’re a survivor…a fighter.”

Betty grabbed his head and rested her forehead to his, closing her eyes. He could feel her hot, passionate breath against his lips and in spite of the heavy topic, he felt his pants twitch.

“I’ll help you if you help me, okay? Jug?” It was barely a whisper, smoke in the air. Twisting and twirling with its meanings.  

“Okay.” He nodded against her forehead, bringing his lips inches closer to hers.

 _Okay_ , she nodded back and brought her lips in to close the gap and press against his. Like the proverbial fire that seemed to follow him everywhere when he was near her, it cracked and arced, exploding with her hot, heavy touch against his bare skin. They kissed, open-mouthed and full on. His lips fit into hers like a puzzle piece, and with every raging, passionate breath, her hands explored his bare skin, tracing the lines like you would a sculpture or work of art.

Jughead could feel the world slipping away from them. Her fingers running down his spine and pulling them closer together until there was nothing between them but his heart beating against hers. Feeling like taking a chance, he let his hand drift to her pyjama short-covered hip. He gripped her tightly and held her down, grinding himself into her warmth which had hovered so tantalisingly close to him. Betty inhaled sharply at the sudden change in direction and pulled back slightly. Her jade eyes were heavy-lidded with lust.

Jughead looked at her, puffy lips and messy hair, his tears now dried and replaced with white hot passion. If passionate make out sessions and (hopefully someday) fucking was their thing to deal with emotions, he had no problem with that. He wanted to distract himself, and Betty was certainly the most stunning distraction in every possible way.

She had him; hook, line and sinker.

As if to ask for approval to continue, he slowly ground his hips into hers, his straining bulge twitching with excitement. A small moan escaped her, and she brought her bottom lip into her mouth before nodding at him, lust clear on her face.

He slowly began nuzzling her neck with delicate, soft kisses working his way down to her collar bone. He knew Betty needed him to be tender with her when it came to the more heated moments, and he didn’t mind. If it meant he got to spend more time worshipping her, he would take it. He wanted to remember every moment…forever. His kisses were so faint they were almost whispers against her skin. She trembled with every one of his touches and Jughead wasn’t sure how much longer he would last without some release of tension.

He brought his lips back to her mouth, his tongue slowly caressing hers, trying to pour all of his emotions into her, so she could see just how much she was affecting him. If his men saw him now, they would have accused him of being weak, but he wasn’t weak. Being with Betty was going to make him stronger than ever before.  

When he kissed her, everything lit on fire and spread like a warmth throughout his entire body. After one tiny taste of her, he was addicted. And like any addict, he would keep coming back for more. Those kisses in that moment were his redemption, and his anguish. He knew from the second his lips touched her that he would live for her and die for her memory. Jughead knew that if he were to lose her, then he would lose himself.

Betty Cooper was the half that made him whole.

As Jughead was about to fully lose himself in the drug that was Betty Cooper, the sound of smashing glass snapped them apart, like cold water on a flame.

Extracting himself from a panting Betty’s grip, he walked over to the balcony, only to see a group of bikers riding away from the house.  When Jughead looked down into his driveway below, nothing could have prepared him for the sight of his mangled bike, and a large crimson devil in fresh paint on his driveway.

Jughead could barely hear Betty’s concerned voice as the blood thumped loudly in his ears, his rage palpable and vision red. He gripped the iron bars of the balcony railing, his knuckles turning white. He felt Betty arrive at his elbow and gasp at the sight below. As she touched her hand to his, he felt himself relax slightly. When he finally turned to look at her, still pouty and flushed from their make out session, he saw her eyes were steel.

“We’re gonna get them, Jug. They’ll get what they deserve.”

Jughead nodded, his brain was confused, a thousand emotions running around trying to figure out which one to feel, but he settled for vengeful anger. The strength in her voice awed him. She truly was someone to behold. He pulled her close to him and was relieved when she returned the favour.

_Damn fucking straight we will._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A cliffhanger?! So who destroyed Jugheads bike?...Tune in next chapter to (maybe) find out! :D
> 
> Leave a comment and let me know what you think! I love hearing from you.
> 
> G xx


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Sorry for the delay. I've had some pretty intense family things going on this past month and it's been hard to find the time to write. I hope you enjoy this chapter because it was a lot of fun to write. Sorry for any typos - I check it myself!!
> 
> Oh boy - we are only getting this baby started!

**Betty POV:**

Betty sat on the edge of the bed and watched as Jughead paced back and forth around her room, shouting angrily into the phone at someone who didn’t seem to be doing a good job at assuaging his temper. As he barked into the phone, she took a moment to think about what exactly she had meant when she had said to him earlier on the balcony. Realistically speaking, there wasn’t much that she _would_ be able to do for him. In reality, she was a recovering sexual abuse victim with some serious setbacks in place. She didn’t own a car, have a lot of money or know any sort of self-preservation techniques. Jughead was in a gang. A large and angry one at that. She had no doubt in her mind that those men could achieve more in one evening of brutality and violence than she could in a month. But there may be one way she would be able to help.

She was the daughter of a journalist after all.

_Time to do some digging into full on gang warfare._

As her revelation struck her, Jughead was finishing his conversation and threw himself down on the bed next to her, throwing his arms over his face and letting out an annoyed groan.

“I’m gonna kill those fucking morons. They’re supposed to be my beta’s, but they have the altogether usefulness of a spoon with holes in it.”

Betty grimaced and shuffled closer to him, gently prying his arm away from his face.

“So…do we know who those assholes who did this were?” She was apprehensive. She wasn’t quite sure how to approach this situation at all. She could feel her anxiety rising and she tried her best to quell it.

Jughead shook his head. “No, we don’t. That’s the part that shits me. We know every gang, greater, equal or lesser, that could pose a threat in the entire U.S. Either those fuckers are deserters from another gang and have tried to form their own, or they’ve come down from Canada…which would be unusual.”

 Betty nodded, adding the information to the list in her head of things to write down later.

“Has there been any big fights recently that would inspire people to make their own gangs?”

Again, Jug shook his head at her in disagreement. “Nah, not really. About six months ago there was one my father was involved in…but I doubt those idiots have been planning that for this long.” He looked over at her, a puzzled look on his face. “Why all the questions, Nancy Drew?”

Betty blushed in spite of herself and looked down at her lap, fiddling with the fabric of her pyjama shorts. “I was just thinking that I would like to help out…and I realise that I can’t do much groundwork, but I am great with research. I am the daughter of an award-winning journalist after all.”

Jughead sat up as she spoke, a look of concern on his face. Betty would never get sick of the he looked at her. Every time their eyes met, it took the breath out of her lungs.

“Betty…Uh, I appreciate it, but I don’t think you have to worry just yet. I’ve got my best guys out scouting for these assholes and when they find them, which they will, they will teach them a lesson in propriety and that’ll be that.” He clasped his big hands over hers, slightly prying apart her fingers which were slowly and unconsciously digging their way into her palms.

He brought her hands to his lips, gently kissing the crescent moon scars before leaning in and placing a small kiss on her forehead. She knew the move was supposed to placate her, and to make her feel reassured. But something still wasn’t sitting right – for someone who was so furious only minutes ago, he sure was acting awfully calm now. Betty knew something more must have been at play, but she didn’t budge him on it as he clearly wasn’t in the mood for sharing.

Jughead was obviously protecting her, shielding her, from his dark and tangled world but she wasn’t sure she wanted to be.

Instinctively she knew getting involved in something as dangerous as a gang would actually cause her mother to never let her out of the house again. After everything that had happened with her father; this would finally give her mother more than enough motive to lock her in a padded room and throw away the key.

So, for now, her investigative work would have to be hidden from the both of them – her journalist mother and her handsome mysterious neighbour.

Betty frowned but nodded in understanding. “If you say so, Jug. But I’m not just going to give this up if I think there is something more to this that I can help with…If you get to protect me, let me protect you, however I can.”

_That’s good – just let him know you’re there, and that you mean business._

Jugheads brow furrowed and his blue eyes hardened. “Just promise me Betts, that you won’t go looking for those morons yourself, okay? I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you.” He pulled her onto his lap, so they were face to face, her legs wrapped around on either side of his waist. His hands were firm on her hips, holding her down onto him. She could feel all of him, especially what she was doing to him.

His inky eyes darkened, and he pressed his forehead against hers. His whisky voice desperate in his plea. “Promise me, Betty.”

She nodded, bringing her bottom lip into her mouth. “I promise, Juggie.”

His grip on her tightened, and she could hear his breath starting to quicken with the close proximity. Separated by only pyjama shorts and tracksuit pants, their desire was not very well hidden, at least, Jugheads wasn’t. And from what she could feel, he certainly wasn’t lacking in that department either.

Jughead closed what small gap there was left between them and crushed himself against her lips. It was hot, desperate and laden with lust. It was almost as if he thought if he poured enough of himself into this kiss, she would see just how much he was beginning to care about her...and he was right.

The strength of the passion pouring out of him took her breath away. She knew this was more than a hormonal desire. This was wanting, passion and desire…and perhaps, something more. It was as if every being in his body wanted to wrap it self and loose itself in her, in an attempt to keep her safe.

Betty kissed him back, breaking apart from his velvet lips to nibble gently on his lower lip, only to be met with a guttural groan, and a quick thrust of his hips into her pooling warmth. Jugheads hands travelled up and down Betty’s body, finding their way under her shirt and running along the bottom of her bra, toying with her.

Being with Jughead like this was like a switch had been flicked. One that made her want to give everything she had to him, and to lose herself in the pleasure and desire. She was practically dripping with it and she had no idea how to resist the small hormonal monster inside of her brain that was telling her to rip all her clothes off and let him have his way with her.

But Betty, being who she was, knew that she didn’t want her first time with Jughead to be fuelled and tainted by the memory of what they would remember as the start of all things bad in Riverdale. Betty wanted their first time together to be memorable, and as much as it ached her to do so, Betty pulled herself loose of Jughead’s tightening embrace and tried to take a clear breath.

Jughead pouted as Betty pulled away from him, and she couldn’t help but smile. He looked like a kid who had just been told they were out of his favourite ice cream, or in Jug’s case – burgers.

Betty sighed in frustration, sliding off his lap and sitting next to him. “Look – I want to…trust me I do. But I don’t want our first time together to be tainted by what those horrible people did to your things. I want us to be special…because I think we are.”

Jughead offered her a smirk and ran his hand down her face, tucking her hair behind her ear. “As disappointed as I am, Cooper - If that was just the pre-game, I can hardly wait to see the big show. But I understand. Guess I’m just a little…frustrated. In every sense of the word.” He grimaced at her and shook his head.

She laughed and playfully shoved him. She didn’t know how to help in this situation, but she could lighten the mood a little. She sorta enjoyed the thought that she frustrated him. It meant that maybe the end goal would be out-of-this-world amazing....hopefully.

_I just gave Jughead Jones blue balls._

“Well, as much fun as this has been, I think I’m ready for bed. How about you, Mr. Jones?”

Betty was snug under the covers as she watched Jughead turn off the lights and climb in next to her. She didn’t miss a beat to snuggle up to his warmth. The last guy she had been in bed with was now in prison, and she was surprised how well she was coping. It was like when she was around Jughead, that entire, anxious part of her disappeared. Like her brain was allowing her to be ‘normal’ (whatever that was) for just a moment.

Jughead’s long arms wrapped around Betty from behind and she nestled back into him, feeling entirely safe in the world. Little did she know that the Riverdale she would wake up to would be an entirely new one.

“Thank you, Betts” A quiet murmur rang out in the darkness of her room.

“For what?”

“For what I am sure is going to be the best sleep I’ve had in years.”

Betty smiled and snuggled back into him further. “I’ll sleep to that.”

Jug chuckled. “Don’t have to ask me twice. Goodnight, Betty.”

“Goodnight Jug.”

 

**Jughead POV:**

When Jughead woke to the sound of his alarm beeping, getting out of her warm bed was the last thing he had wanted to do. For the first time in years, Jughead had slept like a log. Not a single dream, no stirring or broken sleep.

Nothing.

Just blissful deep sleep.

And judging from the light snores coming from Betty’s side of the bed, she was just as blissed out as he wanted to be.

But Jughead needed to go and get some things done, especially after what had happened last night with the Devils.

When he had stepped out onto that balcony, he had felt all the blood drain from his face, and it was like the world imploded in on him. That bike was the only thing that came from his father that held good memories of times long passed.

He had no idea who the fuck these so called ‘Devils’ were but he knew he was going to make them regret every messing with the Serpent Prince.

Dragging himself off Betty’s insanely comfortable bed, he slipped off his pyjamas and shoved them into his backpack. As he pulled on his jeans, he could have sworn he heard Betty wake up, but after a quick shuffle over to the bed to check with his pants around his knees, he saw she was still sleeping soundly, as beautiful and as peaceful as he had ever seen her.

Quickly dressing in the rest of his clothes, he opted to leave his boots off so he could quietly leave the room. Seeing a notepad and paper on Betty’s desk, he wrote her a quick note of goodbye. Knowing that she would be a little bit sad that he wasn’t there when she eventually woke up. He just hoped her sleep continued to be just as peaceful after he had left.

  _Betty,_

_As promised, I made sure to leave before your Mom got home. I wish I could have been there to see you wake up. I bet you look even more beautiful than you do now._

_I have to go take care of a few things after last night. I’ll message you later._

_Stay safe,_

_J_

Jughead had always struggled with words. That’s why he found drawing so soothing. His art could say the things that he could never verbalise. After a little digging in his backpack he pulled out the completed drawing he did of Betty and tucked it under the note for her to find. Hopefully it would help her see herself as he saw her.

Raw and shining.

Satisfied with his work, Jughead tiptoed out of the house and out the front door, making sure to lock it behind him. Quickly slipping on his trusty worn boots, he strode out into the fresh morning, taking in a breath of icy cool air, before he lit his cigarette and inhaled the tobacco deeply. When he was around Betty, her presence was enough to keep him distracted from his less than healthy habit, but now he was out in the real world, he had surfaced long enough to feel all the added stress that a possible gang uprising was going to be.

Puffing angrily, he pulled out his phone and dial Sweet Pea, his current second in charge. He opened his garage as he listened to the phone’s ring and walked over to the all matte black Kawasaki Ninja, he had purchased a few years ago for using while his other bike was going through repairs. It was fast, sexy and sleek. Completely unlike his Harley, which was loud, brash and in charge.

He turned it on, revving it a few times, before climbing on and sitting in his driveway, letting the warm up in the frigid morning air. He dragged on his Marlboro a few more times before crushing it under the heel of his boot.

Eventually the ringing stopped, and a voice answered.

“Hey Boss…it’s a little early, isn’t it? Christ, it’s 5am Jughead…”  He sounded like he was still asleep, but the noises Jughead could hear in the background as he moved around meant he was getting himself ready.

“Yeah, I know. Couldn’t sleep.” He wasn’t going to clue them in on Betty yet. The less people knew about her, the better. The safer she would be from everyone in his fucked up world. “Meet me at Pop’s? We can grab some breakfast and go over what we’re going to do about these ‘Devils’…or whatever their names are.”

There was a rattling of keys, and a distracted, “Uh yeah, sure. I’ll meet you there.” And the line went dead.

  

*     *     *

 

Jughead pulled into the Pop’s parking lot minutes later and wandered inside, waving a hello to Pop and seating himself into booth next to the window, so he could watch the sunrise outside. This time of the morning was always special. No matter what had happened the night before, the morning after was peaceful in an almost eerie way. Everything was still and quiet, the birds hadn’t quite woken up yet, the dew still rests on the grass that wets your step and the usual hustle and bustle has started. It was like, just for a moment, he was the only person alive.

He was brought back to reality by a disgruntled sigh sliding into the booth opposite him. Jughead flicked his eyes over to a tired looking Sweet Pea. He was dressed in his usual dark green tee, black jeans, boots and serpent jacket. His dark brown hair flopping as he ran his fingers through it. His hazel eyes met Jughead’s as if it was a desperate plea. He looked like he had had a rough night.

“Coffee?” Jughead suggested, nodding at Sweet Pea.

His head rested in his hands as he spoke towards the table, and then to Jughead. “Yes please. Make it strong.”

Jughead gestured at Pop for some coffee and the good-natured man smiled at him, nodding in return.

After the coffee had been poured and half drunk, food ordered and, on its way, only then did Jughead suggest that they start their discussion for today.

Sweet Pea, whose real name was Sam Martino, looked over at him with cautious eyes and gestured for Jughead to begin the meeting.

“So, what did you find out about these so called ‘Devils’ last night?” Jughead nodded and thanked Pop as he placed their food down in front of them. Scrambled eggs, bacon and pancakes.

_Perfection._

He shovelled some into his face.

Sweet Pea smiled at Pop, “Thanks Pop. Uh, to be honest Jug, not much. I called around all the usual places, spoke with the usual people…but not much. No one seems to really know who they are. Only that they are as you expected - Canadian. No one knows who they’re working for, or what they want. It’s anybody’s guess. As to why they targeted you, I can’t help there either.”

He shrugged and cut up some of his omelette before placing it onto his piece of toast.

Jughead was less than impressed with the news, but it had been what he was expecting. Growing up in this life you get to know certain things; including which gangs run where. These guys seemed to have popped up overnight and that worried him.

He grunted in reply and they ate in silence for a few minutes both enjoying the meal and trying to figure out what to do next. He had a feeling that this was going to test him in more ways than one.

He cleared his throat and Sweet Pea looked up at him, still chewing his omelette.

“I want every spare person we have scouting these guys. I want to know when they fill up, who they see, where they go. If they sneeze, snort or fuck - I want to know. Call the head and let them know so they can tell the guys. I’ll call my Dad though, god knows he’s probably heard what happened by now.”

Sweet Pea nodded and shovelled the last of his food into his mouth and washed it down with his remaining coffee. “Gotcha Boss. Anything else?”

Jughead shook his head, wiping his mouth with the corner of his napkin. “Not yet. Let’s just do some reconnaissance first and see where that gets us. The ‘ill-informed are ill-equipped’, isn’t that what Dad says?”

Sweet Pea smiled as he stood up, a low chuckle coming from between his lips. “Yeah, something like that. I’ll be in touch.”

“Let me know if anything comes through. Immediately.” Jughead watched as his 2IC nodded and walked out, getting into his black 1980’s Camaro and driving off. As he watched the car swirl away on the dust road, he noticed another car driving in the directions of Betty’s house.

_Alice Cooper is home._

At least Jughead could stop worrying about Betty being alone in that house now. It hadn’t been easy for him not to come over uninvited every night with some lame excuse. He knew she would have found it endearing but as he sat in his driveway every night, smoking his cigarette before he made his way into his room for another night of whisky and drawing, he would watch until he saw her light went out, signalling she was going to sleep.

Jughead looked out the window, the tell-tale signs of the world now waking up to start its day. A few more early morning commuters were starting to pull into Pop’s for their morning coffee and muffin fix and the sun was now shining bright, signalling a new day for everyone.

Knocking back the last few dregs of his coffee, he put money on the table for the bill, waved goodbye to a smiling Pop and walked outside to his bike.

He knew his Dad was based in New York at the moment, only a few hours ride away, and it seemed like now was as good a time as ever to pay him a visit.

Gritting his teeth, he revved the engine and shoved on his helmet.

_The only way you’ll make it through this if you just do it. It’s like ripping off a band-aid._

_Fuck._

Jughead flew out of the parking lot, all black leather and denim and zoomed towards the highway, ready to meet his maker.

 _And it had seemed like such a promising start to the day_ , he sighed.

_Let’s get this over with._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you feel so bold, leave me a review! I love hearing what you guys think. Or just hit me up with that sweet Kudos button!
> 
> And on that note...To whoever the lovely soul is who nominated Dragonfly for a Bughead Fanfic Award...You blow me away! To think that you guys think I'm as good as those guys astounds me! I am shocked and awed and so so so thankful all at once. It means the absolute world to me and my little story.
> 
> See you next chapter!! (hopefully sooner than this one was!)
> 
> G


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...I know it's been a while but that's because life has a tendency to get in the way and fuck things up, y'know? If you're still here and waiting then THANK YOU for being so patient! I'm going to try and get this updated more often because you guys deserve it and it makes me happy to hear from you all! 
> 
> If you're new here - welcome! and I apologise in advance for my fucked up uploading schedule. 
> 
> Anyways. I hope you like the new chapter! Things are starting to get serious in Riverdale.
> 
> Love and coca cola always,
> 
> G

**Jughead POV:**

As he stood in front of the grimy bar door, a wave of dread rolled over him and threatened to pull him under. He’d already smoked two Marlboro’s when he’d pulled over to try and quell his rising nerves, but they hadn’t been the salve that he had intended. Instead, the only highlighted his agitation, leaving him on edge and irritable.

_Fuck._

“No time like the present, Jones…” he groaned to himself. He tugged on his jacket sleeves and fixed his face into that of cold nonchalance and rapped his knuckles against the steel security door.

The sliding peephole opened fast, clearly ready to tell whoever was outside to fuck off but when they saw Jughead standing there, glaring at the door. The eyes widened & after what sounded like someone fumbling uselessly with the locks, the door flew open and the owner of the eyes gave Jughead an apologetic nod.

“Sir.”

Jughead stepped inside the darkened room, his eyes gliding over the young man who’d let him in.

 _Christ,_ Jughead thought t _he kid couldn’t be much over 18, if that._

He had his head bowed in subservience; eyes glued to the dirty, gritty floor below. A smug smirk flickered across Jugheads face before returning to the cool mask of indifference he wore before. He hadn’t expected to be treated with such _respect_. Especially in his father’s home, or whatever he wanted to call it. But clearly, he must have been doing something right for his father to lay down the law so clearly to his men. Either that, or the kid had been briefed and had taken his responsibilities a little too seriously.

“Where’s FP?” The words slithered out of his mouth and hung in the air. Looking mostly towards the bar, scanning the backs of old bikers’ heads and leather shoulders. But he came up fruitless.

All of the men were seemingly focused on anything but their future leader. He knew they had all been told about FP’s wayward son – his uncontrollable anger and how tightly he ran his squad back in Riverdale. The underlying current of the room was uneasiness.

“Office, Sir.” The boy squeaked out, still not making eye contact with Jughead.

Jughead nodded and thanked the boy before he headed down the long corridor towards the large red door at the end of the hallway. It’s chipping red paint, scratches and scars an excellent metaphor for the person who Jughead presumed was sat behind it.

Sooner than he would have liked, Jughead arrived at the door. He had to stop himself from lighting up another cigarette before he went in. He couldn’t show his weaknesses. Not here in front of these men.

_Stop being chicken shit._

Taking a long breath in his nose and out his mouth, his hand started turning the handle before his brain could hold him back any longer.

_Like ripping off a band-aid, remember?_

The smell assaulted his nostrils before his eyes had time to adjust to the dim lights. It smelt just like Jughead remembered. Like stale cigarettes, spilt beer and mint chewing gum. It made his stomach heave and turn.

The figure in the chair behind the worn old desk spun around to face him, looking far older than Jughead’s last memory had portrayed him. Age had definitely caught up with FP Jones, and not for the better. The red-rimmed dark grey eyes which had once scared him into submission, flinched with recognition. A smile broke out over the wrinkled and lined face, his yellowing teeth revealed in all their splendour.

“Boy!”

He nodded at the seat on the other side of the desk for him to take, straightening up in his own chair as Jughead sat. “What a damn surprise. You're the last person I expected to see waltz in here.”

Jugheads mouth formed a tight line but he managed to wrangle it into something resembling a smile for the man who was acting so nicely for once in his god-forsaken life. It put Jughead even more on edge.

_Have I entered the Twilight Zone?_

His fingers twitched as he held back the need to have yet another smoke to calm his already frayed nerves but he somehow managed to resist the urge. He settled for bouncing his leg up and down as way of distraction. He couldn’t let his father smell the fear that was rolling off him. Like the symbol of their gang, his father was a true snake; he knew he’d go straight for the jugular if he let him.

“Last person, huh? I would have thought you would have heard by now. Guess news doesn’t travel as fast these days, huh Pop’s?” Jughead smirked slightly as his father narrowed his eyes. Jughead would play his role as a cocky leader for a little while longer, it was what his father expected from him.

“Very funny. Now why don’t you tell me what the fuck you’re here for then if not just to grace us with your presence.” He leant forward in his chair, pointing at Jughead before taking a swig of the beer next to him. It wasn’t even noon.

Jughead cleared his throat. He’d been running through this conversation all the way from Riverdale. Replaying what he’d say, and how his father would react. But now in the moment, the words he needed seemed to evade him.

“Well, last night I was at home minding my own business when I heard something outside. I figured it was nothing but went out to check anyway. And in the driveway was my fucking bike, mangled to shit with a giant red devil spray painted on the fucking ground in front of it. I only caught a glimpse of those assholes as they rode away.” Jughead ground the words out, his anger seeping out with every sentence he spoke.

FP’s eyes narrowed angrily. “Well who the fuck were they? Anyone we know?”

Jughead shook his head in frustration for what felt like the 1000th time that day.

“Nope. That’s the thing. No one knows who they are. I’ve had men scouting all over the fucking state since last night and it’s like they’ve vanished into thin air. All we found out is that they’re possibly Canadian.”

Calloused hands slammed down on the desk in front of him angrily. Jughead didn’t flinch but instead kept a steady gaze on his father as FP rose from his seat and started pacing.

“Who the fuck do they think they are to threaten me and my _son_ on my own fucking turf…at my own FUCKING HOUSE!” He roared furiously, picking up the beer bottle and slamming it into the door behind Jug’s head.  The smell of beer permeated the room further.

Jughead had somehow managed to stay calm during the whole ordeal. Maybe it was because he had seen his father like this many times before so he knew how to handle himself. But in reality, Jughead’s mind was two hours away, tucked up in bed with a snoozing blonde. He just wanted to get back there as soon as possible to protect her from whoever these ‘Devils’ are. He could deal with his father not even asking if he was okay, or even asking him if the bike they had built together all those years ago had survived, but Betty? She was a whole other ball game. She deserved to be protected from all this hatred and violence.

He cleared his throat to speak and his father’s gaze snapped back to him, his eyes wild and breathing heavy.

“So, I’m going to say you don’t know who these ‘Devils’ are? No one your men have pissed off recently? No Canadian gang wars I don’t know about?” Jughead watched his father carefully for any reaction to his words, but he didn’t give anything away.

“No – nothing. Things have been quiet for a while now. We’ve never had trouble with the Canucks before. I’ll do some digging and, in the meantime, you head back to Riverdale and strengthen your forces. I’ll let you know what I find.”  He sank back down into his chair, his steel eyes cold and unmoving.

Jughead bowed his head and rose from his chair, making his way to the door. He turned one last time to look at his father before he left and was surprised to see his father still watching him intently.

“Remember, Boy. In unity there is strength.” He narrowed his eyes, thumping his chest with one fist.

“In unity there is strength.” He nodded, before turning on his heel and shutting the red door behind him.

_Time for a fucking cigarette._

 

  

*     *     *

 

**Betty POV:**

When Betty had woken that morning from perhaps the deepest sleep she had experienced in years, she hadn’t been too surprised to find the space next to her empty. But what had surprised her was the small handwritten note he had left on the pillow next to her, along with a drawing he had done of her.

 

_Betty,_

_As promised, I made sure to leave before your Mom got home. I wish I could have been there to see you wake up. I bet you look even more beautiful than you do now._

_I have to go take care of a few things after last night. I’ll message you later._

_Stay safe,_

_J_

 

When she had first opened it, his skill had taken her breath away. It was a drawing of her face, from when she wasn’t sure. She was looking down and her hair was tumbling down the side of her face in soft waves. He had somehow managed to make her look _beautiful._ Like he wanted her to know that _this_ was how he saw her. It made her heart ache even more.

She had laid there for how long she wasn’t sure, clutching that drawing to her thudding chest and staring at the ceiling, listening for the tell-tale rumble of a motorbike pulling in next door, but it never came.

Sighing in disappointment, she eventually rolled herself out of bed and into the shower. She was lost in the showers hot steam and thought when a sharp knock echoed out on her bathroom door. Quickly shutting off the water, she grabbed the towel she had hanging on the rack and tried not to let the fear flood through her veins at record pace. Her breathing was already staccato at best.

“…hello?” She called out, her voice catching in fear.

“Betty! It’s just me! Come down when you’re ready. I’ve made breakfast!” Her mother’s voice made its way under the door and the relief Betty felt almost made her weak at the knees. While she hadn’t been expecting her home so soon, she was grateful it was her and not someone intent on killing her.

_Not going to be picked apart by an axe murderer today, I guess._

Sighing to herself, Betty quickly hopped back under the spray to remove the last of the conditioner out of her hair before towelling herself off and dressed in a comfy pair of navy tracksuit pants and grey t-shirt. She wrangled her damp hair with a brush and twirled it on top of her head into a bun. Very much a comfortable, at home look.

She slowly made her way downstairs and into the kitchen, seeing her mother’s back poking out from the fridge. As she turned, orange juice in hand, she saw Betty lingering in the kitchen entryway.

Alice hastily placed the orange juice on the counter and scooped Betty up in an all-encompassing hug, squeezing the air out of her petite frame.

“Woah, Mom. Hey – everything okay?” Betty managed to wheeze out as her mother slowly let her out of her embrace.

She heard Alice sniffle into her shoulder and pulled back, holding Betty by both shoulders, a sad smile on her face.

“I am so sorry that I wasn’t there for you when you needed me most, Betty. I’ll have to live with that burden for the rest of my life, but I won’t ever stop apologising.” She wiped a tear that had escaped off her cheek.

Instinctively Betty tensed up. She had guessed that the time she had spent away from Betty and learning about what she had gone through would have opened her eyes up a little. As a rule, she had tried not to blame her mother though sometimes she didn’t always succeed. Her father had won the parental rights as Alice was always working, and Betty had only been a child in the mind of the law when it had happened so there wasn’t much she could have said to try and change the outcome. As a child, Betty had totally been a Daddy’s Girl, so she had thought at the time, albeit naively, that this was what she wanted.

She inwardly hoped that whatever information Alice had learned from her lawyers wasn’t going to change how she treated Betty. In truth, she was happier when she was left alone – it made it easier to deal with things.

She nodded stiffly at her mother’s apology, wanting to move on from this intense display of affection from her mother. She wasn’t used to seeing it at all.,

She settled on changing the topic. “So, how was New York?”

Alice, seeming to regain control of her emotions, straightened out her blouse and gestured for Betty to take a seat at the bench which she did promptly. A bowl of warm porridge was placed in front of her, the slices of banana arranged on top in a circle. Just like when Betty was a kid. Before her life had changed so drastically.

_Guilt._

_This bowl is a manifestation of Alice’s guilt._

Betty gently took a bite and gestured for her mother to continue, who was now busying herself with pouring two mugs of fresh coffee. She shook her head before starting, her watery eyes meeting Betty’s guarded green gaze.

“New York was….” She seemed lost for words, “Intense.” She finished, pushing the mug across the counter before sipping her hot brew.

She nodded as she took another spoonful, waiting for her mother to continue.

“He’s such a monster, Betty…and what he did…It blows my mind that he is the man I married. How could I not have seen it? The things he is telling those men in prison – they make me sick.” She shuddered, placing the mug back on the bench with a shaky hand.

Betty softened her gaze and smiled sadly at her mother. It was a question that she’d spent a lot of time on when she was with her therapist. How could her mother have trusted him? Couldn’t she see? But as Ruth (Oh how she missed her) had told her. Men like her father were usually very good at concealing their true identities. Her mother fell for the man she _knew._ And that was a very different man to the one who had attacked Betty.

“You weren’t to know, Mom.” She reached across and grabbed her mother’s hand in what she hoped felt like reassurance.

Nodding, her mother squeezed her hand back and sighed, her eyes fixating on Betty’s almost untouched meal. “You not hungry?”

_Guilt. Guilt. Guilt. Guilt. Guilt._

“Not really, Mom. I was actually planning on going for a jog. I don’t want it sitting in my stomach.” She quickly made up the lie, the words coming easier out of her mouth than she expected.

“Oh, okay. Should I wrap it up for you for later? I have to head into work. I’ve a lot to catch up on. It’s amazing what can pile up in a week.” She tried to mask her hurt with humour, just like her daughter.

Betty tried to smile warmly at Alice, but her every cell wanted to get out of the room and away from this awkward conversation. It was going to take a while to get used to Alice being so… _motherly._

“Sounds good, Mom. I’ll see you when you get back, okay?” She removed herself from the stool and made her way back upstairs to grab her headphones and keys which she had dumped on her desk the night before. She let out an exasperated sigh as she sat on the edge of her bed. She wished she had Jugheads number.

When Betty had come back downstairs ten minutes later, the house was once again empty of Alice Cooper.

She sighed in relief and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge (noting the neatly wrapped bowl of guilt and bananas sitting on the shelf), before heading out the front door. She plonked herself down onto the front step as she laced on her sneakers, right foot and then the left.

She had been standing there in the summer sun, scrolling through her music to try and pick the right song to start off this adventure when she heard it. The low rumbling of an engine slowly growing closer. Her eyes flashed up and gazed headily down the street, watching as a sleek black motorcycle carrying the one person, she _did_ want to see into the driveway next door. Betty’s feet seemed to be rooted to the spot as she watched from her porch, eyes drinking over Jugheads tall frame as he removed his helmet, running his long fingers through his wayward black hair agitatedly.

As if he could feel Betty’s presence his eyes lifted to hers, and a slow relieved grin broke out over his face. She didn’t move from her spot as she watched Jughead lift himself off the bike and in just a few short steps, he had rounded the fence separating their two houses and was standing in front of her in all of his leather clad glory. 

“Betty” he sighed as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her as close to him as the porch steps would allow.

“Jughead. Are you okay?” He was hugging her tighter, his nose buried in the crook of her neck, hungrily breathing her in. She felt his lips tenderly placing kisses along her shoulder. She felt her stomach flip with every touch of his lips on her skin, the warm electricity humming between them happily.

She furrowed her brow at his affection. Something seemed to be troubling him, the taut shape of his shoulders a give-away for the burden he carried. They stood like that for a few moments longer, clutching each other as if the world around them would cease to exist, before she pulled back from him, but not apart, instead resting her arms over his shoulders so she could get a better look at him.

His ink eyes glazed over, barely looking back at her, the lines creasing his forehead causing Betty to bite her bottom lip in worry. Everything he was feeling was pouring out to her from behind those eyes, but she knew from the hard-set line of his jaw that talking about it would be another thing entirely.

_Relief. Frustration. Anger. Lust. Worry. Care. Sadness. Tired._

There was another emotion there that almost took her breath away in its intensity.

_Lost._

It screamed back at her in its emptiness.

_Lost. Lost. Lost. Lost._

She knew that feeling all too well. It was one she had seen reflected back in her own tired eyes one too many times. The feeling of complete and utter hopelessness. Without a way to scramble out of the darkness, she knew how easy it was to get stuck down in the nothingness forever. She had always tried her best to not become the numb shell she knew she had become during those fateful months.

Eventually he spoke, his fingers running circuits up and down her arms as she still held onto his waist. The words cut through the warm summer air like ice, pain evident in his whisky voice.

“I went and saw my father.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh! Sorry for leaving it on such a cliffhanger but hopefully it will pay off in the next chapter when Jug tells Betty how his little trip to NYC was. 
> 
> As always, I love you anyway but love you even more when you let me know what you think!
> 
> x


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